Riders of the Storm
by SelahSpinshadow
Summary: [RiD:TPC] Cerebros. With one word can the desires of both Autobots and Predacons be summarized. He is the key to ultimate power and the leader who commands Cerebros - and through him, Fortress Maximus - will be unstoppable.
1. Prelude: Intellect and Forethought

**Riders of the Storm**

  
Author's Note: To show you how old this is . . . when I started The Prometheus Cycle, RiD wasn't even finished airing yet. As a result, Cerebros was an unknown when I started writing and plotting, so I gave him a personality. Turns out I didn't much like the official characterization anyway. So yes, TPC Cerebros is very . . . weird.   
The usual disclaimers: I don't own any of these characters, since I'm not Hasbro or Takara or any liscensed partner. Also, this is RiD slash, various pairings. So there's your warning. Don't flame me, it'll only make you look stupid. ^__^   


Prologue: Intellect and Forethought

  
_Long ago, I walked this very land. I came here, long before the rise of Man, sent to protect a life-sphere of prophecy, a source of vast energy resources. A most sacred life-sphere that would someday rise to aid Cybertron in it's darkest hour. I, most powerful of all Autobots, was chosen to serve in solitude as guardian of this precious sphere. Long was I alone, waiting patiently for the rise of intelligent lifeforms. Long I waited, watching this very land and counting the passing cycles.   
Then came the rise of Man. Impressed, I was, with the speed in which these fragile creatures learned and evolved. I knew, from the store of knowledge in my city-body, that the prophecy named these fragile beings as the aid to our kind. I walked among them, sometimes revered, sometimes reviled. God or demon, it did not matter that I said I was neither. So instead, I withdrew from those who would call me demon, counseling the others to peace. Only through peace and harmony, I knew, could they find enlightenment and become the aid I knew my people would one day need. It was ordained in the prophecies. I was only too honored to play my humble role in guiding these fragile beings.   
In time, I saw in them a danger that I could not ignore. They were fast, mentally agile, but vicious and small-minded. They squabbled terribly amongst themselves over everything, from a scrap of dirt to the name of the divine. I feared not that they would hurt me, but feared what I might do in my need to protect. I hid my city-body deep within the protective embrace of the very bones of the life-sphere, then sought out my own, separate retreat. Perhaps I could not prevent them from making horrible war upon themselves, but I could separate myself from it. It is what I had to do, lest I let my need to protect draw me into their wars.   
But in protecting them and myself from their folly, I abdicated my most sacred duty. Locking away my power, I left the life-sphere unguarded, unprotected. So it was that evil came into the life-sphere, tainting what was once my sacred mission. The taint is strong; it will break the first level in time. But the second . . . the second is mine alone. In it's arrogance, the evil will not ask. Thus can I redeem myself in the face of my failure. Once I am rejoined with the whole of myself, the secret of the second will be mine alone. Then shall none but he who hears the truth of the past know the way. It is the path of the righteous that will redeem my failures. Only in unity will I know the pure from the tainted.   
Whole once more, I will stand guard over the life-sphere that I was to protect. And they will know that my will is pure and they will absolve me of my failures. And in time will the prophecies reveal their truths, and my role will be honored.   
I am Cerebros, bearer of prophecy and keeper of the one true key. Let all who would taint this world stand aside, for once unleashed, you will be made to suffer under the light of my power._


	2. Chapter 1: The Rising Tide

**Riders of the Storm**   
Chapter 1: The Rising Tide

  
A dangerous undercurrent flowed through the corridors of Autobot HQ. Discontent that Galvatron held Cerebros, but also something more. There was an odd tension in the Spychangers that seemingly had no source. X-Brawn was increasingly distant and surly; Sideburn had been forced to keep his brother from picking a fight with Ultra Magnus on two occasions already since Prowl had moved in with the aloof warrior who was now his bondmate. The whole Autobot team was on edge lately.   
_It's almost as if some . . . plague stalks us_, Optimus mused, _spreading discord in it's wake. I know they're worried, because Galvatron now possesses Cerebros. Every day that passes brings Galvatron that much closer to cracking Cerebros's security, and we're still no closer to finding a solution than we were a month ago._   
"T-AI, what's our current status?"   
"Not so good, Optimus. Railspike has ordered Midnight Express back to base after a foiled bombing attempt on his commuter run. Rapid Run is cutting his own patrol short as a result. No one has seen or heard from WARS in almost 30 hours. Ultra Magnus is refusing to acknowledge my calls, and _someone's_ tampered with Prowl's transponder; I can no longer pinpoint his location. I've had to dispatch Build Team and Towline to cover the patrols, and you _know_ how I feel about that."   
"And the research?"   
"It's slow going, especially since no one can tell me exactly what it is we're trying to find. Yes, I know, metal demons and the like, but do you have any idea how much information that search has yielded?"   
"I have a fair idea," Optimus replied mildly. Crosswise was pouring over the search results, assigned to assist the research effort at Hot Shot's request. The Spychanger scientist was not impressed with the lack of information he had to narrow down his search, and had told Optimus as much when asked how the research was progressing. Still, they needed to find the second key to Cerebros, or Fortress Maximus would be useless.   
"Optimus, I know obtaining reinforcements from Cybertron could be difficult. . . ."   
"Even _asking_ for reinforcements could be inviting trouble," he interrupted gently. "We still don't have reliable intelligence on Galvatron's base or the probability of the Predacons intercepting such a transmission."   
"I understand that, sir, but we're being spread too thin."   
"I know, T-AI, I know," Optimus sighed.   
"Should I send Mirage out to track down Prowl and Magnus? We need them to pick up more slack. . . ."   
"No, leave them be for now. They have a right to explore their new bond in peace."   
"But. . . ."   
"No 'but's, T-AI. I know we could use their help, but Prowl needs this time alone with Magnus. Leave them be."   
"Very well, sir," she replied, obviously not happy with the situation.   
"But have everyone keep an optic out for WARS. It's not like him to be out of contact for this long."   
The holographic girl nodded once before winking out of existence. Having one of T-AI's emitters in his office was certainly helpful, but there were times when he had to confess that her appearance left him baffled. While he kept intending to have her holomatrix reprogrammed, there simply hadn't been a good opportunity to set Crosswise on the task.   
_She's right, I can't keep pretending that we don't need the reinforcements. I don't like the idea of putting them at risk of an ambush while they're still in protoform stasis . . . but I'm afraid I'm running out of options. When I selected my team, we were only expecting to face Megatron and a few Predacons. With the addition of his Decepticons . . . we're spread too thin to make an adequate defense, let alone attempt a recovery of Cerebros. Surely Alpha Trion will understand our situation. . . ._   
In spite of his own logic, Optimus remained reluctant to put Autobots at risk. Particularly since, once captured by Galvatron, it was entirely possible the Predacon leader could taint the protoforms within, creating another unit like the Decepticons, and thus making their situation even worse.   
Still . . . they had been here almost two years now, when they were only expected to stay for one, to guard against what had been a remote possibility of Megatron coming to Earth. Two years, and they were still a long way from ensuring the safety of Earth, and thus earning a trip home. It was time that Optimus acknowledged the truth and spoke to the entire team. None of them had signed up for a long-term tour. They had a right to make their voices heard.   
"T-AI, one last thing."   
"Yes, Optimus?" the hologirl chirruped, appearing suddenly at optic level.   
"As soon as my brother and Prowl return to base, recall everyone for a team meeting."   
"Sir?"   
"It's time I admitted the truth: this conflict with Galvatron isn't going to end anytime soon. They have a right to know that this is now a long-term assignment and ask to be sent home."   
"And reinforcements?"   
"When Hot Shot has a spare moment, tell him I'd like to see him in my office."   
"Will do," she grinned, disappearing once more. Optimus stared into the middle distance for a few moments before settling at his desk. If he was going to risk sending for reinforcements, he intended to have a list of candidates.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Hot Shot sank into a lounge chair, too worn out to care that there were datapads under him. They had been short five Autobots all day, and it showed in the grueling schedule T-AI had been forced to implement. If he had been fresh, it would have been one thing, but having spent the entire day before covering for the absent WARS . . . the simple thought of having to move was enough to make him groan. And REV wouldn't be back for another five hours.   
_"Hot Shot, Optimus would like to see you in his office."_   
"Right now, T-AI? I just got in. . . ."   
_"I know, but he asked to see you as soon as you had a moment, and your schedule _is_ free. . . ."_   
"I also don't think I could get out of this chair if someone offered me a million bars of latinum," he replied, his optic band dimming inspite of his better intentions. "I really haven't got the energy."   
_"If you're in need of med--"_   
"I need a solid block of recharge, T-AI. I'll talk to Optimus later."   
He deactivated his personal commlink, knowing full well that it was a pointless gesture; she could still contact him through the apartment's commline. If he was honest with himself, a strong shot of energon would get him through a meeting with Optimus, particularly if it was just a short one. As much as he didn't want to move, the half dozen datapads REV had left in the chair were starting to irritate him. If he could get himself this far, surely he could walk the extra five paces to the dispenser. The needs of the Autobots outweighed his own personal considerations.   
"T-AI?" he called out, activating the apartment's commline.   
_"Yes, Hot Shot?"_   
"Is Optimus still free?"   
_"He's still in his office, at any rate."_   
"All right," he sighed as he typed in the size and grade for his booster. "Any idea what he wants to talk about?"   
_"I could speculate, but he didn't actually say."_   
"Let me know the minute WARS turns up," he grumbled as he felt the energon hit his systems. It was a poor substitute for a proper recharge cycle, but it would give him the energy to function normally for another hour. He would have to be mindful of crash later, of course. Hopefully, whatever it was Optimus wanted, he could deal with it quickly.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Crosswise was perched on a lab stool, pouring over search results from two days previous, when he heard the crash outside his lab. Curious, he set aside the his latest report to investigate. With the team short five people - and T-AI had refused to assign him a patrol, even when he tried to volunteer - he couldn't help but worry that someone had misjudged their power levels and collapsed.   
The sight that greeted him in the corridor was not, however, what he had expected. X-Brawn had apparently made a critical error in judgement, as his fist was now embedded in the wall.   
"X-Brawn?"   
"What?? Oh, hey Crosswise . . . think ya could give me a hand here?"   
"What happened?" the scientist asked quietly as he approached the larger Autobot.   
"Stupid of me, I know, but it just makes me so darn mad! Here we are, short-handed, and Optimus won't even consider ordering Prowl and Ultra Magnus back to cover patrols! We need them to help protect this planet, and they're off who knows where, acting like they're the only two beings in the universe!"   
"They have a right to their happiness," Crosswise replied quietly, studying the wall and X-Brawn's fist with a critical optic. X-Brawn snorted and for a moment Crosswise thought the larger Autobot would explode into another fit of violence. Not that he was sure there was much the eldest Autobot brother could do with his fist stuck in the bulkhead, but he decided he could happily live without finding out.   
"All right, I think I've got this figured out," Crosswise announced suddenly as he drew his gun.   
"What the. . . ? You _think_ you've got it figured out?"   
"Don't move."   
"Now, Cross . . . let's not get hasty here. . . ."   
Ignoring the worried tones of the larger Autobot, he applied a narrow beam to the wall around X-Brawn's fist, carefully excising the segment of bulkhead. Wedge would probably throw a fit at the additional repair work, but it was the most efficient way of dealing with the problem.   
"There," he said at last. "Do try not to do that again?"   
"Uh, yeah. Thanks, Crosswise," the grizzled warrior replied sullenly. Crosswise shook his head as he watched him walk away. He knew X-Brawn was angry about the situation with Prowl and Ultra Magnus, but he couldn't, for the life of him, imagine why. He actually envied the new bondmates their time together. It had been so long since he and WARS had spent time together. . . .   
And of course now WARS was missing. No one had seen him for over two days. Crosswise knew Optimus and Hot Shot were worried. Frankly, so was he. It wasn't like WARS to be away from base so long without checking in. And he couldn't help thinking it was partly his fault.   
With a sigh, Crosswise retreated into his lab. He had been assisting T-AI with her research for almost a month now. A month since the last time he had really been able to go home at the end of a long shift and leave his work at the door. He knew that was why, for the last month, WARS had grown increasingly distant - because even when he was home, he was still at work.   
_Please, WARS, come home. I miss you. Please . . . I promise, I'll work harder to leave my work here at the lab, only come home to me. It's been so long since I've felt your arms around me. . . ._   
He didn't know how long he was sitting, staring at the same datapad, before he realized he hadn't read the last ten pages of scrolling text. Switching off the screen, he rubbed at his forehead absently and tossed the pad back on the stack.   
_If only I knew what I was looking _FOR, he sighed to himself. _Cerebros, what did you plan for yourself? How are we to know what you were thinking?   
Primus below, WARS, I could use your hands about now. . . ._   
Carefully unfolding from his lab stool, Crosswise methodically worked through a full series of stretches. It didn't ease the lingering ache at the base of his neck, but it did relieve the cramps in his joints.   
"Crosswise?"   
"Oh, hey T-AI. What can I do for ya?" he asked as he mulled over which stack to take home with him. Having a holo-emitter installed in his lab hadn't been his idea, but it was proving somewhat helpful. At least it made interacting with T-AI a little easier.   
"I thought you should know . . . Build Team is recovering WARS."   
"Recovering? What happened?"   
"They say it looks like he was caught in a rockslide. He'll be fine, once they bring him in. Hightower said it looked like mostly superficial damage."   
Crosswise sat down heavily on the nearest stool.   
"He's going to be fine, Crosswise. They said it looks like he put himself into sleep mode to conserve power."   
"How . . . how soon until he's here?"   
"Couple more hours. I promise, I'll let you know as soon as they bring him in. I just thought . . . well, I thought you'd like to know."   
"Thanks, T-AI. I'll, um, I'll be in our quarters."   
The hologirl nodded before winking out of existence. Crosswise scooped up a handful of datapads, but he doubted he would spend any time reading them. His mind was a chaos of worry and confusion. WARS was a great warrior; how could it be possible for him to be caught in a rockslide? And why had they only just now found out about it? His mind whirled with questions as the door to his apartment hissed shut behind him.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Optimus nudged the carafe across his desk towards Hot Shot. He knew the Spychanger commander was both irritated with how long this meeting was taking and exhausted from too many shifts in a row. And he felt a renewed surge of guilt that he was contributing to his exhaustion.   
"I'm s--"   
"Stop apologizing, Optimus," Hot Shot mumbled as he refilled his glass. "I know full well how important troop placements are. And I understand the tactical implications of our situation. My Spychangers and I have done everything we can to get information on the Predacon base. The only thing we can say with any certainty is that it's highly mobile. And considering _no one_ has ever seen the thing, I suspect it also possesses some sort of cloaking technology.   
"But we've known all of this for months. What's the point of spending two hours rehashing it all now?"   
"I'll be making a general announcement as soon as Ultra Magnus and Prowl return to base . . . but the truth is we're no closer to ending this conflict with the Predacons than we were a year ago. None of you signed on for a long-term mission. And I think we both know that our numbers aren't large enough to handle this assignment anymore."   
"So we need to call Cybertron for reinforcements, is that what you're trying to say? All right, fine . . . so why am I here?"   
"Because," he confessed with a sigh, "I don't want to present a blank request for support. But I don't have your knowledge of the troops; I wouldn't know who to request."   
"Then why didn't you just say so?" Hot Shot snapped irritably. The Spychanger commander immediately bowed his head. "Sorry, Optimus. That was out of line."   
"It's all right, Hot Shot. It's been a long day, and I haven't been the most helpful or straight-forward. By the same token, this entire matter makes me . . . uneasy. We have no reliable measure of Predacon capabilities."   
"So, in other words, you've been stalling because you don't want to put more people in danger. Fine, I can respect that, and understand this is probably the energon talking, but by the Matrix Optimus, if we need the backup, then _ask_ for it! Wasting time only aids Galvatron, it doesn't change anything."   
Optimus leaned back in his chair, startled at the force in Hot Shot's voice.   
"I'm sorry, sir. Like you said, it's been a long day."   
"No, you're right," Optimus agreed quietly. He started to say more when T-AI's hologram appeared.   
"Sorry to interrupt, but Hot Shot asked to know immediately. . . ."   
"You've found WARS?" the Spychanger commander interrupted, surging to his feet.   
"Build Team found him just moments ago. According to Hightower's report, he was apparently caught in some sort of rockslide. He also said the damage appeared to be largely superficial, and that WARS had set himself in sleep mode to conserve power. They're still excavating him at the moment; they have to work very carefully and don't expect to have him back here for another couple of hours."   
Hot Shot collapsed back into his chair with a weary sigh. Optimus couldn't help but wonder how WARS had been caught in such a situation in the first place, but knew better than to ask; they were unlikely to find out until after WARS was fully functional again.   
"Thank you, T-AI. Hot Shot, maybe you should get some rest. This has waited this long. . . ."   
For a moment, Optimus thought the commander was going to say something. Instead, he shook his head as he rose to his feet, an aura of exhaustion hanging about him.   
"T-AI, let me know the minute he's back."   
"It could be some time before I have him repaired. I won't know until he's here how long it will be before he's able to answer any questions."   
"I understand. Inform me anyway."   
"As you wish," T-AI conceded. Optimus indulged in a hidden frown as he watched the Spychanger walk out of his office without another word.   
"Have you told Crosswise?"   
"I was just about to do that. How did your meeting go?"   
"Not as it should have," he replied moodily. He could almost feel T-AI frowning at him as he flipped through the paperwork on his desk.   
"Should I begin setup of a commlink to Cybertron?"   
"Set up a dataline for now. We still need more information."   
"Very well," the hologram sighed before vanishing once again. Optimus would sort through personnel files himself if he had to do so. He hated the thought of leaving something as important as their support troops up to chance.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Ultra Magnus leaned back against the cliff face, Prowl a comforting weight in his lap. He could feel Prowl drifting like the waves, his hand tracing faint circles on his encircling arm. This was their third sunrise together at the retreat, the third time they had come outside to watch the sky change from deep purple-blue to the pale cobalt of full day as the sun rose behind them. It felt good to simply have him close, to feel the warmth of their bond echoing back to him as he held his mate. A part of Magnus wished they could exist in this peace forever.   
"We should go back," Prowl murmured softly, shifting slightly as his head leaned back against Magnus's chest.   
"Why the rush?"   
"We're hardly rushing at this point," Prowl chuckled softly, "but why should everyone have to cover for me? I've acquired a bondmate, not some terrible handicap."   
"You didn't seem to mind the idea of having time alone when I was adjusting your transponder," he murmured in response, lightly stroking one of Prowl's doors.   
"Um, yeah, about that . . . not that I expect you to do it or anything, but I'll probably have to fix that when we go back. T-AI's probably already stewing about it and, well, I'm not like you, Magnus. Besides, what if something were to happen? How would anyone know where I was?"   
"I will always know how to find you," he whispered, his arms tightening their embrace for a moment. "Never doubt that, Prowl."   
"And if something should happen to you too? I know I sound pessimistic and I don't like thinking about it, but . . . well, they should be able to find _one_ of us, anyway."   
"The choice is yours, my love."   
Prowl shifted around in Ultra Magnus's lap, staring up at his mate with wide optics. Magnus could feel the shimmer of disbelief across the bond, but suppressed his own surprise at the interceptor's reaction.   
"You really mean it, don't you?" Prowl whispered.   
"Of course. Why would I not?"   
"It's just. . . . Well. . . ."   
Prowl trailed off, turning back to watch the ocean. Ultra Magnus knew there was something Prowl wasn't saying, but he chose not to push. The other warrior would speak in his own time.   
"It's just that, in my experience," Prowl whispered at last, "those who say they love me the most, leave me with the fewest choices, if any at all. So you'll forgive me if I seem reluctant to believe you."   
Ultra Magnus wasn't sure how to respond, and so said nothing as he watched thunderheads forming out over the ocean. The storm wouldn't reach them for several hours yet . . . if they were even still there to witness it. The way Prowl was talking . . . a brittle edge had somehow silently seeped into the bond when Magnus was distracted.   
"I'm sorry, my love," Prowl murmured, suddenly pulling away to stand up. "I never meant . . . I have never wanted to be a burden to you. . . ."   
"Prowl," he murmured, reaching out to stroke the white samurai's door, "you don't owe me any apologies."   
"I . . . I think I'd like to be alone for awhile."   
"As you wish," he sighed, subsiding back against the cliff face for a moment before rising to his own feet. He reached out to touch Prowl's shoulder, but the interceptor knew his thoughts and stepped away from him. Magnus watched in silence as his bondmate walked down the beach to stand at the margin between the water and the land. The image was terribly familiar, from the hunch of Prowl's shoulders to the way he held himself protectively. A familiar longing ache suffused his core, but he pushed it side. Prowl had asked for space, and he intended to give it to him.   
_When you are ready_, he thought quietly, _I will be at your side._   
Transforming with a silent sigh, Ultra Magnus rolled up the beach, pondering what he would do while he waited for Prowl to see the truth. As much as he was loathe to admit it, separated from Prowl, he could not deny that his duty lay in assisting the Autobots protect Earth. And inasmuch as he had no desire to return to their quarters alone, there was little reason for him _not_ to volunteer his services, to make up for Prowl's continuing absence.   
"T-AI. . . ."   
_"Well it's about time you called. Where have you been? We've been short five people all day thanks to you! You just better have a good explanation for tampering with Prowl's transponder."_   
"We have a right to our privacy. And I _was_ going to volunteer for a patrol route, but if you're going to be a snippy priss. . . ."   
Silence resounded from the commlink and for a moment he wondered if she had disconnected on him.   
_"Sector EchoGamma, subsectors 23 through 89."_   
"Thank you, T-AI."   
_"And not that I think you care, but WARS has been found,"_ she commented as she signed off. Ultra Magnus ignored her barb; he had better things to think about.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Dark shadows stretched across the spires and domes of Iacon, the shades of night folding the capital city in their protective embrace. The city was alive with the goings ons of hundreds of thousands of Autobot citizens, moving about their daily lives with little concern for the possibility of war. The civil wars had been over for an age, with all Cybertronians living in peace. Optimus Prime had been absent for longer than expected, true, but no one thought much of it. Alpha Trion was a capable steward in the famed leader's absence. If there were whispers of discontent in Vos and Tarn, well, those were halfway around the planet and of little concern to the citizens of Iacon. Anyone in either city with a serious grievance could, of course, bring their troubles before their city council. If they still weren't happy, well, there were regional governors and the Iacon High Council. Violent conflict was completely unnecessary. Unthinkable even.   
Sleek as night, the black mechabird darted around the air-traffic of the mid-range, guided by unseen hands on it's sprint through the city towards the great golden dome that was the heart of Iacon: Autobot Headquarters. Few Autobots even noticed it's passing as it darted between vehicles and crossways. The bird followed it's mistress's silent commands, darting through the shining halls and into the outer office of Alpha Trion. Baffled, the desk clerk stared at the strange creature.   
"Um, Alpha Trion, sir? There's a . . . a creature in the office. . . ."   
The elder steward walked out of his office and, smiling gently, held his arm out to the black bird. The bird landed with a quiet, understated grace, it's multi-faceted optics shimmering pale orange as it looked up at the steward of Cybertron.   
"It's all right, Cistern. Just Rave's way of letting me know she has information for me. Hold my calls," he ordered as he walked back into his office.   
"All right, Raven," he said as he lifted the bird back into the air, "what is it this time, hmm?"   
"You sound like you already know what I have to say, old friend," a soft voice murmured. Alpha Trion settled at his desk, unsurprised to see the Femme sitting across from him. Black as the bird perched on her shoulder, with shrewd cobalt optics, Blood Raven had been a close friend for more vorn than he cared to number. No one knew how she used her avian familiars to see and travel to distant places, a truth for which Alpha Trion was secretly grateful. In the wrong hands, her powers could be devastating.   
"You should be more careful with your birds, Rave. I hate to think what would happen if you were to lose one."   
"My pets are of no use to anyone else, old friend. Worry not on that count."   
"And your news, my friend?"   
"The Hall of Records received a datalink from Earth with T-AI's datacode embedded in the stream."   
"Mmm."   
"So I was right, you _did_ know."   
"I've been waiting for contact from Earth for some time now, my dear. In truth, I was beginning to worry. And while I will grant this isn't the sort of contact I had been expecting, I take it as a favorable sign."   
"Favorable sign?"   
"Ultra Magnus. . . ."   
"Ah yes . . . he did rather leave on a vendetta, didn't he?"   
"And he hasn't returned. That T-AI is now renewing her feed with the Hall of Records . . . Ultra Magnus would not act in such a fashion, so I am left to conclude that Optimus Prime still leads our wayward expedition. I would very much like to know what has become of them all. They have already been gone twice as long as expected."   
"I doubt Optimus will be returning soon," Blood Raven murmured.   
"And what makes you say that, Raven?"   
"Mm, so there _is_ something you don't know."   
Alpha Trion frowned at the Femme across from him. The lights of his office skimmed across her black armor as she smiled back at him, completely unruffled by the steward's intensity.   
"Do you know what T-AI's been culling from the archives?"   
"No, but I suspect you do. . . ."   
"Guess."   
"Raven. . . ."   
"Come on, guess."   
"You are enjoying this far too much."   
"Personnel records."   
"What could he want with personnel records?"   
"I think you know, old friend," Blood Raven murmured, the playful light going out of her optics as her expression shifted to deadly serious. Silent warnings slipped through Alpha Trion's thoughts as he tried to reason out what Optimus Prime would want with personnel records. They served little purpose on their own, unless he meant to seek reinforcements. If that was the case. . . .   
"Megatron? Surely not."   
"He needs reinforcements for _some_ reason. Can you think of any other?"   
Alpha Trion had no response for her, and they both knew it. Optimus would not linger on Earth without cause; the Autobots needed him. Similarly, he would not be gathering personnel files unless he had some use for them. Which meant he was searching for the right personnel to augment his forces.   
"Who will you send?"   
"No one."   
"Alpha Trion. . . ."   
"Don't start Raven. We don't know that he wants anyone at all, let alone who or how many. This could be idle research for all we know. Until he contacts us, my hands are tied. When he contacts me, _then_ I will be able to do something. In the mean time, we must have faith."   
"Faith?"   
"That he will contact us when the time is right. He was chosen to carry the Matrix for a reason. When he is ready, he will tell us what we need to know. In the mean time . . . keep your audios to the air, Raven. Rumors can be dangerous things."   
"You can trust me," she replied with a purr.   
"Anything else? I wouldn't want to keep you from your work."   
"Say no more, old friend," she replied. here was a faint concussion to the air and then she and the bird were both gone.   
_May Primus keep you, my friend. You and Optimus both. I fear a great discord is coming to our world._


	3. Chapter 2: Path of Thorns

**Riders of the Storm**   
Chapter 2: Path of Thorns

  
_This shouldn't have happened. This is my fault. I never should have told him to leave._   
Crosswise was, in a word, miserable. He wanted to be with WARS, longed to be with him, and yet . . . he had been so angry when they had argued the last time. Furious at the lack of support from WARS, he had lashed out verbally, unleashing his emotions in ugly words. WARS had stood in their apartment in silence, absorbing every word without so much as a flicker, then turned and walked out. And now WARS was in Medical while he sat in the simulations lounge, feeling miserable and alone, even though REV was sitting right next to him.   
"He'll be fine, Crosswise."   
"Then why won't you let me be with him?"   
"You know if it was up to me I would. I'm sure T-AI has her reasons."   
"If it was Hot Shot, would you let her stop you?" Crosswise mumbled.   
"No," REV confessed quietly. "But then I'm not stopping you either, Cross. I just didn't want you to be alone."   
Crosswise sighed, leaning forward to rest his head in his hands. REV was right; the only person stopping him was himself. As much as he wanted to be with WARS, he was still a little angry that his Companion had walked out on him without so much as a word.   
A gentle touch that could only be REV broke his musings, comforting without words. He surprised himself as a strangled whimper worked its way out of his vocoder. It had been so long since WARS had touched him. . . .   
"Shh . . . it's okay, Cross. . . ."   
"This is my fault, REV," he whimpered, looking up at the other Spychanger with pained optics. "I . . . I threw him out. That's why he hasn't been around. I was just so angry . . . and he . . . he wasn't supporting me. I was really awful to him, REV. This is all my fault. . . ."   
"Hush now, don't say that, Cross."   
"But it's true! If I hadn't lashed out at him, none of this would have happened!"   
"You only lashed out at him because you thought he wasn't supporting you. Besides, Cross, you didn't make him stay away so long and you aren't responsible for acts of nature."   
"I shouldn't've yelled at him," he insisted, turning away from REV. He heard his teammate sigh softly, then felt himself being pulled into a gentle hug.   
"Maybe not, but you can't blame yourself for this, Crosswise. He'll be fine."   
"I should go to him. . . ."   
"If that's what you want to do, you know I won't stop you."   
He felt torn, wanting to be with WARS, and yet loathe to pull away from REV. He had all but forgotten how good it felt just to be hugged and held. Of course REV meant nothing more than friendship and comfort, but it was enough to push back the loneliness.   
"You know T-AI will tell us the moment he wakes up," REV murmured gently. "Rest awhile. He won't know if you go now or half an hour from now."   
"_I'll_ know," Crosswise countered, yet he made no move to get up either.   
"You're wound up tighter than a Corcellian chronometer. Try and rest a little bit. It's been a long couple of days for everyone, especially you. You'll be no good to WARS if you're still this worked up when he revives."   
Inspite of himself, Crosswise relented with a heavy sigh. He powered down his optics, resting his head more comfortably against REV's shoulder. A gentle hand stroked the back of his head, a surprisingly paternal gesture that just felt right coming from REV. He could feel himself drifting, the gentle rhythm of REV's touch soothing his jangled nerves. And though he fought against it, he soon found himself crossing into sleep mode.   
  


* * * * * 

  
"Well?"   
"Well what?" Mirage countered peevishly.   
"Are ya gonna tell me what's got ya all worked up or do I hafta drag it outta ya?" Ironhide replied as he lounged on the apartment's couch, seemingly unruffled by his Companion's surly behavior. Mirage huffed, finally conceding to sitting down next to Ironhide.   
"WARS," he muttered darkly.   
"I kinda figured that much. So what's he done now, 'sides get buried under ten tonnes a' rock?"   
"He's in Medical for being a selfish moron and Crosswise is beating himself up over it."   
"How do ya know that?"   
"Come on, 'Hide, this is Cross we're talking about. He'd blame himself for the sun rising if WARS could convince him it was a bad thing."   
Ironhide sighed, a quiet concession to the truth. Mirage pulled off his facemask with an echoing sigh of his own. Ironhide slid an arm around Mirage's shoulders, drawing his Companion against his side.   
"Not much point lettin' it get to ya like this, 'Raj."   
"It's just so senseless."   
"I know, 'Raj, I know. But if Cross don't wanna see the truth, well, then there's nothing we can do about it."   
Mirage nodded slightly, but Ironhide could still feel the tension in his lover's lanky frame.   
"Relax, 'Raj," he murmured softly. "Or is there something else you ain't tellin' me?"   
"I just . . . I've got a bad feeling about this, 'Hide. I don't know what it is, but something just doesn't sit right."   
"Nothing about them's sat right with ya since we came to Earth an' Cross started comin' to ya crying about bein' ignored."   
The sharpshooter said nothing in response, one hand rising up to scrub at his face. Ironhide captured his Companion's hand, raising it to his lips for a light kiss. A quiet smile stole across Mirage's lips as he turned his hand to cup Ironhide's cheek.   
"I just wish he could be happy, 'Hide."   
"I know, 'Raj," he replied softly, "but dwelling on it isn't doing anyone any good. Least of all you."   
Ironhide forestalled any response from his Companion by drawing him into a gentle kiss. Mirage relaxed into his lover's embrace, grateful for the distraction of loving hands. Hands that knew him more intimately than anyone else, that knew exactly how to distract him.   
  


* * * * * 

  
REV tried to be upset, he really did, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.   
"You," he murmured softly as a familiar touch slid down his arm, "are supposed to be recharging."   
"I have," Hot Shot replied. "Besides, what about you?"   
"Crosswise needs me."   
"How's he doing?"   
"Not so good," REV sighed, shifting Crosswise's weight until the scientist was laying with his head in REV's lap. Leaning back against the back of the couch, he quietly related his entire conversation to Hot Shot. His mate listened in silence, soothing just by being present.   
"It's just so sad to see him like this."   
"I know, REV," Hot Shot soothed. "We'll do everything we can, but in the end, there's only so much we can do. Crosswise has come to us before, only to deny the situation later. Perhaps this time will be different. We'll just have to wait and see."   
"What's the status report on WARS?"   
"I don't. . . ."   
_"REV, you can wake Crosswise now. I just released WARS."_   
"T-AI, you _know_ Cross wanted to be there when WARS woke up."   
_"I know. I also know exactly how many hours of recharge each of you have received in the past three days. WARS is on his way."_   
"Now he'll be mad at me for making him sleep," REV sighed.   
"Maybe, but not for long. From the sounds of it, he probably needs it."   
"I know he does," REV murmured, gently stroking the scientist's arm. Asleep, Crosswise looked far more peaceful and relaxed than he had earlier. Still, REV could see the signs of disquiet. Nor was he reassured when WARS walked into the room and Crosswise, still asleep, whimpered softly.   
"Shh, it's okay, Cross," he whispered quietly, touching the scientist's faceplate gently as he watched spikes of power flicker through his green optics. Crosswise nuzzled REV's hand weakly before dropping back into a deeper sleep mode.   
"I'll take him now," WARS said stiffly. "Let you two get your rest."   
"Before you go," Hot Shot interrupted, "maybe you can answer some questions."   
"Like what?"   
"Like why you walked out on him," Hot Shot started.   
". . . and why you didn't speak up about this sooner," REV concluded.   
"He told me to leave, so I did," WARS responded simply, frowning at them both.   
"If you're having problems. . . ."   
"_If_ we're having problems, and I'm not saying we are, they'd be our business and none of yours. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to take Crosswise home."   
With surprising gentleness, WARS lifted Crosswise into his arms. For a moment, Crosswise whimpered again. Then WARS's grasp shifted slightly and the scientist snuggled against his Companion's shoulder. REV watched them thoughtfully as they walked out of the lounge.   
"I think that's the first time I've ever seen WARS actually being tactile and loving. Maybe things will improve from here," REV mused quietly.   
"I hope so," Hot Shot sighed. "Primus knows they deserve some happiness."   
"I don't know who I feel for more, Cross or Prowl. They've both been through so much. . . ."   
"Prowl more than Crosswise, I think."   
"Mm. At least Ultra Magnus is willing to fight for Prowl. I just don't see that in WARS. I dunno, maybe I'm seeing things that aren't there . . . or missing what is . . . but I don't see WARS fighting too hard for Cross."   
"It's too soon to judge, REV. Perhaps his close call will have changed him."   
"And if it hasn't?" REV asked quietly. Hot Shot's arms slipped around his shoulders, tucking REV's head under his chin with a quiet sigh.   
"Then . . . then we wait for them to come to us and ask for our help. I want to help them too, REV, but they have to want our help. Otherwise, there's nothing we can do."   
"I know, but I don't have to like it," REV confessed with a tired sigh.   
"Come on, let's get you home," Hot Shot murmured, releasing his mate to walk around the couch and offer him a hand up. With a tired smile, REV gratefully accepted, using the outstretched arm as an excuse to pull himself into his mate's embrace. He rested his head against Hot Shot's shoulder, momentarily too worn and wrung out to do more than lean against his bondmate. Hot Shot said nothing, as supportive as always. And as always, he knew exactly when REV was ready to continue to their quarters.   
"I know you said you caught some recharge," REV said softly as the door to their apartment snicked shut, "but will you lay beside me, just for awhile?"   
"As long as you have need, hon."   
  


* * * * * 

  
_"I won't stop you, Cross. If you really think it's that important . . . I'm not stopping you."_   
Crosswise stared at the scrolling text on the datapad in his hands, not sure whether he was more annoyed with WARS for letting him go so easily, or with himself for actually leaving.   
_What was I thinking?   
That this project was more important than personal considerations_, a quiet voice whispered. Crosswise sighed as he set down the datapadd, looking around his lab for a distraction from his own thoughts. It had been like a dream come true, waking up to find himself in WARS's arms, knowing hands awakening his desires. He had wanted to bond then and there, to become one with WARS, but his taciturn Companion had refused, pulling away. His spark had ached at that denial, an ache that had only deepened when WARS retreated into himself.   
"Oh . . . hey Crosswise. Didn't think you'd actually be here," Wedge stammered.   
"Yeah, well . . . so what can I do for you, Wedge?"   
"Oh, well, um, actually, I was just looking for someplace quiet so I could finish this paperwork. With WARS only just being released, I thought . . . well, it doesn't matter. I'll clear out, let you work."   
"No, it's okay, Wedge. I won't be staying long."   
"Oh . . . well, uh, if you're sure, Crosswise."   
"Yeah, I'm sure, Wedge," he replied quietly, ordering the array of datapads in front of him. The youthful leader of Build Team nodded once as he dumped a jumble of datapads at another lab bench. Crosswise felt a twinge of sympathy for the combiner team leader; he wondered how often the young architect wished he could be sketching blueprints instead of filing incident reports.   
"If you need any help. . . ."   
"Nah, I think I've got it covered. But thanks for offering, Crosswise."   
He nodded once, then walked out of the lab to wander the halls of Autobot headquarters in something of a daze. A part of him wanted to go back to WARS and just be with him. WARS had to be in their apartment still; it was too soon for him to be sent out on a patrol. And yet, at the same time, his spark was still stinging at the latest refusal to bond.   
_What was I thinking, even asking? He always says the same thing_, he sighed to himself. Crosswise was surprised to find his feet had lead him to Mirage and Ironhide's door without his conscious consent. With effort, he forced himself to walk past his friends' door, to leave them in peace, if they were even home. As much as he wanted to talk to someone, he wouldn't distrupt his friends' chance at time together just because he had been stupid enough to get his feelings hurt. He would deal with this himself . . . one way or another. It wasn't like WARS didn't always say the same thing: he wasn't ready to be more than Crosswise's Companion. Crosswise knew WARS was content with their relationship as it was. He kept saying they would bond later, when they were both ready.   
_So why can't I be content? What's wrong with me? He's happy with our relationship. Why can't I be happy with him as he is with me? I love him, he loves me . . . why should anything else matter?   
Oh, but why won't he bond with me? He's all I could ever want, all I could ever need. Why can't he surrender to what he must feel and bond with me?_   
The Spychanger scientist was surprised to notice, when he pulled his thoughts out of their depressing mire, that he had gone from standing in front of Ironhide and Mirage's door . . . to standing in front of REV and Hot Shot's door. He hung his head with a heavy sigh, annoyed with himself for walking in circles. And yet, when he tried to force himself to move on, he instead found he could only watch in growing alarm as his hand reached out and tripped the door chime.   
_By the Matrix, Cross, what are you doing??_   
"Crosswise? What's wrong?"   
"I. . . ." _Nothing, I need to go home. Nothing's wrong. I. . . ._ "I'd like to talk to REV . . . if that's okay. . . ."   
"Of course, 'Wise. Come in."   
His inner voice screamed at him to apologize for intruding and walk away. Instead, his mutinous feet carried him into his commander's personal quarters. Crosswise flinched, only barely reining in a gasp at the feel of Hot Shot's hand on his back.   
"Easy, Crosswise. Go ahead and sit down, and I'll let REV know you're here."   
"I didn't mean. . . ." _Oh sweet Primus, he's asleep. . . ._ "I didn't mean to disturb you. . . ."   
"It's fine, 'Wise," Hot Shot replied, squeezing his shoulder as he walked past. Crosswise sank onto the couch, feeling even more like an idiot. A trapped idiot; even if he could come up with a reasonable excuse, he couldn't just walk away, not after Hot Shot went to all the trouble of waking REV for him. But he didn't know what he could possibly say to him. He didn't even really know what he was doing.   
"Hey 'Wise," REV murmured gently, breaking into his thoughts. The yellow warrior settled down on the couch next to him, saying nothing more, as if he were waiting for Crosswise to explain himself. _Too bad I don't know why I'm even here. . . ._   
"Hey hon, talk to me here," REV said at last, reaching over to take his hand. "Whatever happened, I want to help. We both do."   
"I didn't . . . I didn't mean. . . ." _There has to be some way out of this. . . ._   
"Didn't mean what, 'Wise?"   
"I . . . I'm intruding . . . I'm sorry. . . ."   
"Oh no, you're not getting out of it this time. Tell me what's wrong," REV insisted, refusing to release Crosswise's hand. _At least Hot Shot's not here_, he thought, trying to find some way out of his predicament. He nearly jumped out of his metallic skin when he felt Hot Shot sit down on his other side.   
_Oh this is just getting worse by the second_, he thought with a shudder.   
"Hey now," REV soothed, "it's okay, 'Wise. We're just worried about you. Why aren't you with WARS?"   
"I . . . I don't know. . . ."   
"Well, all right, hon, then how about you tell us why you came here?"   
"I . . . I don't know that either," Crosswise sighed, looking down at his and REV's hands. REV squeezed his hand gently and he could almost hear the smile in his voice.   
"No idea at all?"   
"No . . . not really," the scientist confessed, surprised at himself. REV slipped an arm around his shoulders, gently but insistently drawing him into a sideways embrace. He felt something catch when he felt Hot Shot's hand on his shoulder as well and then, like a wall struck too many times, his resolve gave way to bitter tears.   
"Shhh . . . hey, it's okay, Cross," REV soothed, but Crosswise barely heard a word he said.   
  


* * * * * 

  
"Shh . . . hey, it's okay, Cross . . . it's gonna be okay," REV soothed, slowly rocking the scientist's quaking form. He glanced across the Spychanger in his arms to catch his mate's gaze. He didn't want to speak openly in front of the scientist, and yet, with his arms full of weeping Crosswise, hand signs would be difficult. However, he didn't need any signs to see the shared worry in his bondmate. And in the end, he wasn't certain Crosswise was even listening anymore.   
"Contact WARS. I think it's past time we had a little chat. There's no excuse for this."   
"I know," Hot Shot agreed with a nod. REV wasn't sure what he could do for Crosswise, particularly since he had no idea what had happened. The situation had looked rather promising when WARS had carried Crosswise home earlier. But whatever tensions had existed before WARS's accident had presumably risen to the surface once more. Only this time, instead of WARS walking out, it was Crosswise who had run away. REV only wished he knew how to help them.   
"WARS is refusing to respond," Hot Shot sighed. "T-AI says he's in his quarters, but she can't make him respond. I have a meeting with Optimus and T-AI's going to need you on patrol again soon. . . ."   
"Mirage?"   
Hot Shot nodded once, opening a discreet channel to the Spychanger sharpshooter. Rhythmically rocking Crosswise while the scientist shuddered with pained sobs, REV whispered softly: "It's gonna be okay, Cross, hon. Think you can tell me what happened? Or should we leave that for Mirage?"   
"Mirage?" Crosswise asked weakly, shifting to look up with faint optics. Before REV could speak, however, the door to the apartment hissed open. For a moment, he couldn't fathom why. Then he heard Mirage's distinctive footsteps crossing the room. The sharpshooter crouched down before them, reaching out to touch Crosswise's hand briefly.   
"Hey, Cross. REV's gotta work, but you and me can talk if you want. Or I can take you home, your choice."   
"Home, I think," Crosswise said after a moment's hesitation.   
"Well come on then," Mirage replied with a hidden smile. REV watched as the sharpshooter helped Crosswise get his feet back under him, then walked him out of the apartment. He couldn't help a sinking feeling of dread as he watched the two Spychangers.   
"This isn't going to end well, is it, 'Shot?"   
"I don't know, REV," his mate confessed. "I just don't know."   
  


* * * * * 

  
"Back again, are we?"   
Crosswise could almost feel Mirage bristling at the coolness in WARS's voice. Rather than allow a confrontation between his Companion and his friend, he silently pushed WARS into the apartment. The door hissed shut behind him, blocking them from Mirage's view. Which still left him faced with his less than happy lover.   
"Didn't think you'd be coming back so soon. And certainly not with _him_."   
"Please don't start," he murmured, pushing past WARS to settle at the desk. He stared at the screen, mildly surprised to see a combat analysis from their last engagement with the Decepticons. But he was even more surprised when he felt WARS's hands lightly rest on his shoulders.   
"You didn't have to leave. . . ."   
Crosswise didn't say anything for a moment, taking the words as the apology he knew they were intended to be. Still, he wished his lover would actually say the words. Even just once; it would ease his worries to hear it. WARS had always been so reluctant to share his feelings with anyone, even him.   
"I . . . I'm sorry. I think I'm worrying the others. I . . . I think they may start asking questions. . . ."   
"They already have."   
"I'm sorry. . . ."   
"I tell them all the same thing: it's none of their concern," the red warrior rumbled, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on his shoulders. A quiet sigh slipped out of him as he leaned back against his lover. Maybe he was blowing things out of proportion. WARS had always respected the needs of his research. He complained about it sometimes, but always respected his professional needs. And _he_ was the one to go to his lab, though it would have been nice if WARS had made more of an effort to stop him. But then, maybe he was expecting too much. After all, WARS wasn't a mindreader.   
Crosswise relaxed into the soothing massage, switching off his optics as he did so. It never ceased to amaze him that such a strong warrior could be so tender, and with him of all people. He was, after all, just a scientist, and not even that exciting of one either. He wasn't even really that sure how he had come to be a Spychanger, though he was certainly grateful to be part of the team. Hot Shot, REV, Mirage, Ironhide . . . they were more than just teammates, they were his friends, almost like a family. That's why they asked questions; they worried about him.   
_I guess I'm just gonna have to find a way to stop giving them something to worry about. . . ._   
  


* * * * * 

  
Mirage stalked up to the closed lounge doors, nodding to Hot Shot and REV as he joined them. It had been more than a week since the last spat between Crosswise and WARS, but there was still an uneasy tension in the team. At Hot Shot's request, Optimus had granted the two leaders of the Spychangers and WARS the day off. When Mirage found out that Hot Shot and REV intended to confront WARS and Crosswise about their dysfunctional relationship, he had quietly insisted on being included. He was not at all reassured by the fact that, once notified of the extended period of off-duty time, WARS had essentially disappeared from the base. In fact, they still didn't know where he was.   
"Let us lead on this, Mirage," REV murmured firmly.   
"We want to help him," Hot Shot added equally quietly, "not corner him. We share your concerns, but this needs to be handled very carefully."   
"With loving concern, not frustrated anger, yeah, I know the drill. You two aren't the only ones to have done interventions, you know."   
REV smiled briefly, then he and Hot Shot walked into the lounge together. Mirage smiled faintly to himself as he watched them, the den parents, to borrow a human phrase, of the Spychangers. Little wonder that Crosswise was so jealous of their obvious contentment with each other.   
The Spychanger scientist was pacing, his gaze turned inward, as they entered the room. Mirage half expected Crosswise to look up and ask what they wanted, but he kept pacing, as if he hadn't even heard them. The Spychanger sharpshooter hung back, watching as his teammates approached the pacing scientist. Something about his friend's jerky motions wasn't sitting right with him, but he couldn't pinpoint it.   
"Hey Crosswise," REV started gently, breaking into the other Spychanger's thoughts. "Can we talk for a bit?"   
"I . . . I suppose, yeah, sure. What about?"   
"You and WARS. . . ."   
"What about us?" Crosswise asked, his voice suddenly brittle. Mirage cringed internally at the way his friend's posture suddenly stiffened defensively.   
"Well, to be honest," Hot Shot interjected, "we've been worried about you. Are you sure everything's okay?"   
"We're fine. There's some trouble sometimes, yeah, but we're fine."   
"You sure you know what you're saying, 'Wise?" REV asked quietly.   
"I'm sure I know more about it than anyone else," he grumbled in a warning tone. "I'm sure that I love him. What? What do you want me to say?"   
Silence hung over the room for a moment as REV studied the decking thoughtfully. When he looked up again, his gaze was intense as he focused on Crosswise.   
"Just that you can tell me he's never, for one second, broken your heart or made you cry."   
Crosswise crossed his arms over his chest, glowering at the unofficial co-commander of the Spychangers. It didn't take any real effort on Mirage's part to see the growing anger in his friend.   
"You've opened up about this before, only to gloss over it later. It's a cycle. If you don't wish to see it . . . well, I can't make you. But that doesn't change the fact that it's there."   
"That's not fair," the scientist whispered, lowering his gaze from REV's as he continued to speak. "Okay, so he's not perfect. So? So, what, should I walk away because he's imperfect? I love him, that's what matters."   
"That's not the problem, hon," REV replied quietly. "The problem is, he's blind to that right now.   
"I don't mean to accuse you of anything, 'Wise . . . I just don't want to see you getting hurt anymore. WARS isn't doing himself much good with this. You've only suffered from it so far. If he can't understand that there's something wrong . . . well, then what's to stop him from letting you go, over and over and over?"   
When Crosswise took to glowering at REV sullenly, Mirage stepped forward.   
"Cross, please . . . REV's right. This can't keep happening. It's no good for you, no good for the team. . . ."   
"We don't _want_ to cut WARS out," REV added. "We _want_ you to work out your differences. But this can only go so far, Cross. The very least we can do is give him a sabbatical. . . .   
"But if he doesn't want to be a team player . . . well, then he doesn't have to be one."   
"You'd break up the team over this???" Crosswise blurted, incredulous   
"Cross. . . ."   
"You would, wouldn't you? Whatever happened to the sanctity of privacy?!"   
"We weren't explicitly aware of this problem until you came to us, Crosswise," Hot Shot murmured gently.   
"It's still my problem to deal with, not yours," Crosswise grumbled sullenly, turning away from them.   
"It _was_ yours . . . and then you brought it to us . . . and then it became ours too. . . ."   
". . . and we're fine with that," REV added. "We'll work this out together, all of us."   
"But we need your cooperation, too."   
"Well maybe I don'--"   
"No, Cross," Mirage interrupted, "if you didn't want our help, you never would have come to us in the first place."   
"He's right, 'Wise," the yellow lamborghini said quietly.   
"You did the right thing then by stepping forward and we're with you," the Spychanger commander noted. "We just need to follow this all the way through."   
"It's only temporary for now, a cool-down time for WARS," his mate explained.   
"If you want to kick him off the team," Crosswise grumped moodily, "then do it. Send him back to Cybertron if that's what you really want . . . but I'll go with him."   
"I don't want to think about what that would mean for you, hon," REV replied, shaking his head slightly.   
"He's demonstrated time and again that he's not ready to commit. Not to you, not to us. If he goes, then he goes alone," Hot Shot stated firmly, his optic band brightening with his conviction.   
". . . but we're not ready to lose him _and_ you, 'Wise hon."   
"If he goes, I go with him," Crosswise reaffirmed, at last turning to meet REV and Hot Shot with his own firm conviction. "If I have to resign my commission to do it, I will, but I won't stay here without him."   
Desparation flitting through his thoughts, Mirage reached out to clamp down on Crosswise's forearm when the other Autobot turned to walk away. He didn't like forcing the contact between them, but he couldn't let his friend throw his life away. Not on someone who didn't care.   
"Cross, please . . . we know you want our help. . . ."   
"Listen to Mirage, if no one else," Hot Shot added gently. "You trust him, and he has your best interests at heart. Just like we all do."   
"If you didn't want our help, you would have walked out on this conversation a long time ago."   
Crosswise purposefully kept himself turned away from Mirage, apparently studying a section of decking intently. Not that the sharpshooter was buying into his friend's act. But the flinch that pulled through Crosswise when REV slowly rested a hand on the scientist's shoulder tore at his very spark.   
"We're not saying these things out of any kind of spite, Cross," the yellow warrior murmured gently. "I'd be perfectly happy if none of this were happening, if you and WARS were happily bonded and settled. We all would. But you're uncomfortably far from happy together. . . ."   
". . . and given that we're an elite Autobot combat unit, that poses problems. Problems that, quite frankly, we don't have the luxury of allowing to work themselves out," Hot Shot concluded.   
"My problems," the scientist muttered weakly, "to be sorted out my way . . . not treated like . . . like some damned military project. . . ."   
"That's just it. We have jobs to do. You and WARS have been with us a long time, but never has this conflict disrupted our efficiency like it's doing now. We've hung on as long as we could, hoping you two would reconcile eventually, always knowing that this sort of thing takes time. But . . . WARS is breaking you down, Crosswise."   
". . . and that's wounding us all, in more ways than one. As much as we hate to interfere, Cross, for the sake of the team. . . ."   
"The team . . . the team . . . well _slag_ the team! Maybe you think the team is more important, but I don't!"   
"All right," Mirage soothed, loosing his grasp to instead slowly rub his hand up and down Crosswise's upper arm, "then answer me this, Cross: where is he? You want to deal with this? Fine, then where's WARS?"   
"I don't have --"   
"You said you wanted to deal with this. Well, you can't do it all by yourself. So where's WARS?   
Mirage could sense the growing belligerence in his friend. And the undercurrent of concerned disapproval from his commanders. Such direct confrontation was supposed to be a weapon of last resort, particularly with someone in Crosswise's position, as it was so much more likely to be counterproductive. But perhaps an angry Crosswise would see what the quiescent one was refusing to admit.   
"Ironhide's no--"   
"Ironhide and I don't have a problem, Cross. You do. Now, where is he?"   
"How the frag should I know??" Crosswise exploded angrily, pulling away from him as he spun and glared at them all. "I'm not his slagging nursemaid!"   
"We know, 'Wise," REV soothed, "we know."   
"But he _should_ be here . . . or are we missing something?"   
"Good question," Hot Shot murmured.   
"You corner me an--"   
"We aren't cornering you, Cross," Mirage corrected gently, "but when's the last time you saw him? Hasn't been any time today, so when was it? And no, training doesn't count. . . ."   
"What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?"   
"We're trying to help, Cross . . . but we can't with only half the equation," the sharpshooter murmured, once again reaching out to gently clasp the scientist's forearm.   
"Whatever's helpful to us will be helpful to you as well," Hot Shot commented.   
"Maybe what's helpful to me is if you leave me alone," the younger Spychanger growled, violently jerking his arm free from Mirage's grasp.   
"Crosswise," REV started.   
"So is this what you do when I'm not around? Gang up on Cross and make him cry? How . . . ironic," WARS's dry tone reached out from the door, a self-righteous smirk threatening to appear on his face. Mirage felt his anger rising like a dark tide, but for Crosswise's sake, he choked it back.   
"A question for you then," Hot Shot responded stiffly. "Where have you been?"   
"Off duty. Nothing else matters," the red warrior responded coldly. "And just what do you three think you're doing?"   
"We're trying to get some answers," the black Spychanger commander replied curtly.   
"By harassing Cross?"   
"By seeing that you're not the only one benefitting from your relationship with him," REV interjected, stepping forward with a rare brilliance in his optics. Crosswise slipped between them to join WARS, clearly relieved to no longer be alone. Mirage could tell REV was genuinely upset, a rare occurance in his long experience with the other warrior. What he could hardly credit was WARS's apparent indifference to that fact.   
"Is that what you call it . . . then maybe you need to work on your technique. Didn't you notice he was in a panic? Or are you going to tell me now that his emergency message to me was some kind of mistake?"   
"You messaged him just now?" REV asked, turning to the cringing scientist, his voice losing the harsh edge.   
"You wanted to know where he was," Crosswise replied defensively.   
"All right then," Hot Shot said firmly, stepping forward to place a restraining hand on his bondmate's shoulder. "You did us a favor. Thank you, Crosswise. I only want to know one thing now, WARS. Are you or are you not a Spychanger?"   
"What the slag is that supposed to mean?" WARS grumbled with a frown, seemingly oblivious to his Companion's cringing.   
"Just answer the question."   
Mirage could hardly credit what he was hearing. Hot Shot had always been a very by-the-book sort of commander, but he had never been _angry_ with anyone. Not like he was now. For a moment, the sharpshooter wondered if it was even possible for WARS to say the right thing.   
"Are you kicking me off the team?"   
"Depends. . . ."   
". . . on how you answer my question: did you know that, over the years, Crosswise has come crying to us for things you have done? And things you've left undone?"   
"What happens between Cross and myself . . . that's our business," WARS growled. "Not yours."   
"When he comes to me crying in the middle of the night. . . ."   
"You're the _last_ person to take aim at me, Mirage. . . ."   
Cold rage flared through Mirage's systems. He had listened to Crosswise's lonely sobs too many times, held the shaking Spychanger in his arms on too many occasions, offered his friend whatever comfort he could too often. . . . He refused to accept that he somehow wasn't involved; he was. And he was more convinced than ever that WARS had to go. And he intended to explain that to WARS, with his fists if necessary, when Hot Shot stepped between them, a restraining arm barring his way momentarily.   
"Don't try to change the subject, WARS," Hot Shot rumbled in stern warning.   
"Then get to the point."   
"Why?" REV demanded with narrowed optics. "Why do you leave him alone when he needs you?"   
"He leaves me, you mean. . . ."   
Mirage felt himself flinch at the choked noise of denial that rose from Crosswise at his Companion's words. However, it was the anger he saw in both Hot Shot and REV that worried him the most. They had been so worried that he would be the one to explode, but they didn't look like they were going to put up with WARS all that much longer.   
"He tells a different story," Hot Shot commented dryly, his anger reasonably well hidden.   
"Care to explain your side?" REV continued, hands on hips as he glowered at WARS.   
"I don't have to explain my personal life to you or anyone else. That's why it's called MINE and PERSONAL."   
"You are so fill of shit, you know that?" Mirage interrupted, wary of the co-commanders' reactions.   
"Mirage. . . ."   
"No, he is . . . you stick up for him all the time, Cross, but frag it, this is ridiculous!"   
"It seems you've answered my question then, WARS," Hot Shot rumbled quietly. WARS scowled at the Spychanger commander prodigiously. Mirage couldn't help but wonder if the surly red warrior even noticed the pained expression that flashed across REV's face . . . or if he had any clue what it meant.   
"You may be content with being a Spychanger in name only . . . but we are not. WARS, you need to go."   
"WHAT?!?" Crosswise cried in shocked disbelief. WARS, however, simply stiffened with an even more closed look than usual.   
"We've tried. Everything. We're a team and you've always known that . . . but you've never trusted yourself to us. That's your choice, I respect that. However, that means that we, as a team, cannot trust you.   
"I'm placing you on temporary leave, pending Optimus's verdict. Until then . . . I'm sorry."   
"If that's the way you want it. . . ."   
"What?? That's it? Aren't you even going to fight this?"   
"They don't want me around . . . well, I won't make them take me," the surly warrior growled. Mirage turned to Hot Shot, but not before he noticed the yellow lamborghini subcommander clenching his fists.   
"What about Cross?"   
The silence that decended upon the room while Hot Shot mulled over the question spoke volumes by itself. Still, Mirage silently held out for some hope that Hot Shot wouldn't just let Crosswise throw his life away.   
"REV is right, we can't make him see what he won't see," the commander sighed, the weariness suddenly coming to the fore. "Crosswise is an individual and should be treated as such. Whatever he feels he must do. . . ."   
"But . . . 'Shot, we can't just leave him," REV whispered, anger abruptly replaced with bewilderment.   
"You can't be serious," Mirage added incredulously. "After everything we've gone through . . . you're just going to cut him loose?"   
"I'm not staying without WARS," Crosswise asserted bitterly.   
I don't want to abandon him," Hot Shot whispered, his voice just barely reaching Mirage's audios.   
"Then we can't, 'Shot . . . we just can't," REV pleaded in response, but Mirage was barely paying attention. Instead, he was silently reviewing their conversation since WARS had entered the room. And he was disturbed to realize the two had yet to even touch each other.   
"Cross," he murmured suddenly, "do me a favor."   
"What?"   
"Kiss him," he deadpanned, holding the blue scientist's gaze firmly.   
"What?!"   
"Go ahead."   
"Are you out of your mind?!"   
"A little too much? All right, fine . . . but touch him, dammit," he growled at last. He was keenly aware of both REV and Hot Shot watching him, weighing his words thoughtfully. As if they were wondering if he was mad. Then he felt their gaze slide to Crosswise expectantly.   
"I'm not some . . . some performing . . . thing. . . ."   
"Well, he's your charging hero, come to save you from us, and you still haven't touched him once."   
"Leave him be, Mirage," WARS growled.   
"Then you do it. After all, he just committed to sacrificing his career to stay with you. I'd think that to be worth some small show of affection."   
"Maybe we don't believe in public displays," the red warrior replied tersely.   
"Since when have we counted as public?"   
"What is this, some kind of perverse test? Come on, Cross. . . ."   
"Something to put my mind at ease," Mirage interrupted, stepping closer. "I'm sure your warrior pride can handle clasping your mate's hand?"   
"A small gesture," affirmed Hot Shot, "surely not the toughest test you've ever endured?"   
Silence loomed as WARS narrowed his optics but didn't move. Crosswise cast a confused glance at Mirage, then turned his pale green optics up at his Companion, silently questioning. For a time it seemed as though neither Spychanger would do as Mirage had asked, then WARS slipped one arm around Crosswise's shoulders. The scientist sighed, his smile clearly visible despite the facemask he wore as he switched off his optics and snuggled against his Companion. However, the gesture failed to appear at all natural or loving from WARS's end, nor did the sharpshooter miss the brief look of panic that flashed across the warrior's face as Crosswise nestled against his chest.   
"Oh good," REV commented humorlessly. "I was about to give a demonstration . . . in case you'd forgotten how."   
Mirage's anger was not soothed, not by the lack of affection he saw in WARS. He stepped back to stand beside Hot Shot, his spark twinging briefly at the easy way the commander reached out to draw his own mate back gently. Cross was such a beautiful person, inside and out; he deserved better.   
"I am _not_ reassured," he whispered in a harsh undertone.   
"WARS doesn't seem to want this moment to last," Hot Shot commented, equally quiet.   
"Unlike his attention- and affection-starved mate?"   
"Sadly, yes," the commander agreed. Mirage wanted to throw something, to grab WARS by the doors and just shake him until he saw what he was doing. Instead, he forced himself to watch as WARS tried to gently coax his lover into releasing him.   
"Cross. . . . Cross. . . . . Cross. . . !"   
"Mmm . . . What?"   
"Enough already," the red warrior mumbled. Two words, and Mirage felt the last spark of hope for his friend's happiness with WARS die.   
"Come on . . . gotta pack. . . ."   
_No. Oh Primus, please have mercy. Hot Shot, you can't let this happen. . . ._   
"WARS," Hot Shot said suddenly, stepping away from his saddened bondmate to approach the mismatched couple, "I know you're not a compromising 'bot . . . but would you be willing to make an exception in this case?"   
"What sort of exception?" he asked with a guarded expression.   
"We'll let you stay . . . provided you and Crosswise take at least one day a week off together. Not on a mission, not during training. Just you two. Alone."   
Crosswise finally pulled himself out of his haze of contentment far enough to power up his optics and gaze at their commanding officer quizzically.   
"Crosswise wants you for his Companion, and maybe for something more. You need to decide if that's what _you_ want."   
"If I'd known you people were going to meddle in my personal life like this," he grumbled darkly.   
"One day a week, that's all we ask. . . ."   
". . . and you and Cross can spend it any way you want," REV affirmed.   
"Exactly. What you do that day is not our business. For our peace of mind, we want to know that you can indeed co-exist together."   
"And if he leaves me again?" he asked, his question promptly followed by a whimper of denial from Crosswise.   
"If one of you goes AWOL, then the rest of us will know. We'll pick up from there."   
"Starting with today?"   
"Starting today," Hot Shot agreed firmly.   
"Fine. Come on, Cross."   
Mirage watched them walk out of the lounge, uneasy at the dichotomy he saw between the two Spychangers. WARS was cold, controlled, almost sullen. Crosswise, on the other hand, appeared so happy it was a wonder he didn't burst with excitement.   
"It won't last," he grumbled as the door closed behind them.   
"I . . . can't say I'm not a little worried, 'Shot."   
"I can't say that either. But we have to try . . . we have to let them try," Hot Shot sighed, drawing his bondmate close. That simple action, made in front of Mirage, said more than any words. Hot Shot was not nearly as reluctant to be publicly affectionate as WARS, but he did tend to carry himself with a certain reserve. He was rarely the one to initiate such a gesture.   
"If Cross isn't in tears by the end of the day, it'll be a miracle," Mirage sighed.   
"Then by Primus, let there be one," REV murmured, leaning into his mate's embrace.   
"No one deserves it more . . . I just don't think he'll get it. You saw that look WARS had. . . ."   
"Yeah, like he would've preferred bein' dragged off to the Pits. . . ."   
"Then . . . we'll have to trust them. There's nothing else for us to do. It's all up to them. If WARS can't see the light of day. . . ."   
"I swear, I don't know why Cross stays with him. I don't know what he's getting out of it. Not love, not affection. The whole time we talked, never once was it said that WARS loves Cross. Cross loves WARS, but the other way 'round?"   
Mirage sighed before speaking again: "Maybe I'm just tired of not being able to do a slagging thing for my friend."   
"We're all tired, believe me," Hot Shot murmured, his visor dimming slightly as his head dropped down next to REV's.   
"I'm starting to wonder if 'Wise really loves him" REV murmured, his voice filled with resignation, "or just needs him so very desperately. . . ."   
"Why do I get the feeling even he doesn't know?" Mirage murmured, his gaze flicking back to the door through which the two Spychangers had exited. He wanted to think things would improve, but he just couldn't do it. Every time he tried, his memory flashed the trapped look in WARS's optics when Crosswise had snuggled up to him just moments ago.   
"If nothing changes?" he asked in a quiet whisper. "If this compromise blows up in our faces? What then?"   
"I'll need to speak to Optimus about this immediately anyway," the Spychanger commander said slowly after a moment's pause. "Hopefully, he'll have ideas. Because right now . . . I have no backup plan. I'm trying to go at this one step at a time."   
"Better do that now," REV murmured, patting the arm around his chest. "I hate to think the worst, but. . . ."   
"I just have one question first. Mirage, what was WARS talking about, when he said you were the last person to criticize him?"   
Mirage said nothing for a moment, then sighed.   
"He thinks Cross and I were having an affair before we left Cybertron," he confessed. "It didn't happen, but he thinks it did. You know how WARS is. Once he gets an idea set in his head, telling him he's wrong doesn't go very far. He won't even listen to Crosswise.   
"I'm not supposed to know, but Cross actually apologized to WARS for the entire thing . . . even though he's never done anything wrong. Ask me, it's a miracle I haven't done something to beat some sense into WARS a long time ago. But like I said, I'm not supposed to know about what Cross did to keep WARS from abandoning him. So I just swallow the anger and try not to think about it too often. 'Course then he does something stupid and it all comes back again."   
"Thank you, Mirage. And I hope you're wrong about them."   
"For what it's worth," the sharpshooter murmured, "so do I."   
Mirage stalked out of the lounge, letting his commander have a few moments with his bondmate. He didn't know yet where he was going to go; Ironhide was on a patrol circuit and wouldn't be back for another hour or more. And he knew if he went home, he would soon be pacing, fretting over Crosswise, worrying that things were going poorly for his friend. Trying to shake off the encroaching feeling of dread, he loaded a program into the simulation room's holomatrix. He paused a moment, then set a reminder alarm. As much as he intended to lose himself in the simulation, he didn't want to miss meeting Ironhide when his lover came back.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Crosswise sat at the desk, watching WARS check his e-mail. They were supposed to be spending time together. They had the day off expressly for that purpose, to try to smooth out the difficulties in their relationship. And as much as Crosswise was besotted with his lover, he wasn't stupid enough to think they didn't have their problems. WARS had promised they would spend time together, just as soon as he finished his e-mail. That had been twenty minutes ago.   
"WARS. . . ."   
"In a bit, Cross."   
"You said that ten minutes ago," Crosswise sighed to himself. Increasily bored, he decided to try sending text messages to Ironhide. At least with his patrol, Ironhide didn't know about the agreement yet; he wasn't too likely to ask uncomfortable questions.   
»_ Hey Ironhide. Busy?_   
» _Hey Crosswise. Nah, not really. What's up?_   
» _Nothing much._   
» _Just messaging me out of the blue? Come on, spill it Cross._   
» _(sigh) Can I ask you a question?_   
» _Always, Crosswise._   
» _How do you know Mirage loves you?_   
The cursor blinked back at him for several seconds as he waited anxiously for a reply. Crosswise glanced over at WARS, but his Companion appeared to be engrossed in his reading. He suppressed another sigh as he glanced back at the display. _So much for spending time together. . . ._   
» _Truthfully? Cuz he fights with me._   
» _Huh?_   
» _Yeah, I know, that sounds weird. And I know we look bad from the outside sometimes. But the truth is, I'm never more sure that he loves me than I am after we've had a knock-down, drag-out, no-holds-barred fight._   
» _You're kidding, right?_   
» _Nah, I'm serious. See, I know he loves me, 'cuz he cares enough to get pissed off. If he didn't care, well, then nothing I could do would bother him half that much. It's all about the passion and the fire._   
Crosswise sat and pondered that for a bit, watching the red form of his lover thoughtfully. And tried to remember the last time he had seen any real passion in his Companion.   
» _Crosswise?_   
» _Thanks, Ironhide._   
» _Any time, Cross._   
The blue scientist left the desk terminal, swiftly crossing the room to pluck the datapad from WARS's hands. His Companion looked up at him placidly, his face little better than an expressionless mask.   
"We're supposed to be spending time together," Crosswise grumped, tossing the datapad aside. "Spending time _being_ together, not just in the same room."   
"So we are," WARS replied coolly. "Done with your little chat?"   
"Wha-? How did you know?"   
"I have my ways," the warrior replied, reaching up to remove Crosswise's facemask with a faint grin. The blue scientist felt a grin of his own pulling at him as he joined WARS on the couch.   
"I lu--"   
His words were cut off abruptly as WARS kissed him, strong arms pulling him close against the red warrior's chest. It stole his breath away, surprising him with how quickly he felt himself responding to his lover's advances. Power surged through him as he surrendered to WARS's tidalwave of seduction. Their minds opened to each other, tendrils of thought sliding around each other in a unique cadence all their own. Crosswise was overwhelmed when he saw how close they danced to bonding.   
"WARS," he whispered hoarsely. "Please. . . ."   
His lover nipped at his neck, but said nothing. Crosswise edged them steadily closer to bonding, hope flaring through him when WARS didn't immediately pull back. _Please_, his thoughts begged earnestly, _please, my love, be one with me. . . ._   
WARS's presence crystallized, and for an agonizingly beautiful moment, Crosswise thought his lover was going to say yes. Then something dark rose between them and the red warrior pulled away with a strangled cry. Crosswise felt his spark shatter at the rejection.   
"No," WARS rasped. "No . . . it's not right. . . ."   
"It's never right!" Crosswise screamed weakly. Low energy warnings flashed in his vision, only proving to him how close they had been. Staggering, he pulled himself to his feet.   
"Crosswise. . . ."   
"Always. You always pull away first. It's not fair, WARS. We were so _close_. . . ."   
"Cross, I'm sorry. I'm just not ready. I . . . maybe someday I will be, but not yet. I'm happy with where we are. Why can't you be happy with it too?"   
Icy realization flowed through his circuits; WARS would never be ready. A pained gasp slipped out of him as he turned and stumbled towards the door. He didn't know where he was going, he just knew he had to get away. Away from the pain, away from the lies. . . .   
"Cross . . . Cross, don't leave like this. . . ."   
But he ignored his beloved, fumbling out the door and down the corridor. He had to get away, had to go somewhere where he could think clearly, somewhere that didn't make him feel like the very air around him was trying to crush him. Somewhere that didn't include WARS's voice.   
"Cross! Crosswise, come back!"   
He could hear WARS following after him, but he didn't care. Red warnings scrolled through his vision, demanding that he stop and conserve his energy, but still he pushed himself forward. There could be no going back. Nothing would ever be the way it had been before . . . or the way that he had dreamed of it becoming.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Ironhide was standing over the two collapsed Sypchangers when Ultra Magnus arrived on the scene. He didn't even bother transforming as he assessed the situation, nor did he care for what he was seeing.   
"What the pit happened?"   
"Not a clue. I do know there wasn't a firefight. Best I can tell, they just collapsed from low energy."   
"What? What the slag has been going on around here?? No, wait, get them loaded and tell me on the way home."   
Magnus reined in his impatience, waiting as Ironhide loaded the two fallen Spychangers into his trailer. The warrior grumbled the whole time about Mirage being right about something, but Magnus wasn't curious enough to want to ask. Instead he remained resolutely silent, his anger slowly growing as Ironhide told him his suspicions. Prowl had expressed concerns for Crosswise, but he had dismissed them. Now it seemed Prowl had been right to be worried about the Spychanger scientist.   
"Thanks for bringing them in, Ultra Magnus. We can take it from here," Ironhide informed him crisply. He pulled into the hall before transforming, gazing back into the medical ward. WARS was propped upright in one corner while repair droids clicked and clacked to each other, fussing over the Spychanger scientist. He could barely comprehend how this could have gotten so far out of hand. But he intended to find out, even if it meant breaking through the door to Optimus's office. Fortunately, he didn't have to go quite that far, as the door still cheerfully hissed open to admit him to his brother's retreat.   
"Optimus! We need to talk. Right now."   
"Very well. What's on your mind, Magnus?"   
"You really have no idea, do you?"   
"Magnus. . . ."   
"Crosswise is in Medical right now, attached to who knows what all, and you don't have the first clue why, do you?"   
"Crosswise? Impossible. He's on personal leave. . . ."   
"And you don't even know why, do you?"   
"Well," Optimus rumbled in low warning, "I suppose I think that if it's personal leave, it isn't my place to ask why."   
"And when it's your own warriors sending each other to Medical? Do you think it just _might_ be your responsibility to find out what's going on _then_?"   
"Magnus. . . ."   
"You self-righteous --"   
"MAGNUS!"   
Ultra Magnus was surprised to see actual anger glittering in his brother's optics as the Autobot leader managed to scowl up at him even through his faceplate. They had argued about Optimus's methods several times over the past year, but rarely had his brother ever shown any emotion at all, and never anger. Annoyance, from time to time, but not anger.   
"I believe in respecting the privacy of the Autobots under my command, _particularly_ where their personal lives are concerned. Furthermore, I trust Hot Shot's ability to lead his own team. If and when he believes he needs my intervention, I'm certain he will tell me himself. In the meantime, the Spychagers are his to manage as he sees fit."   
_"Optimus. . . ."_   
Magnus suppressed a smirk as he watched annoyance and something else flicker through his brother's optics.   
"Optimus here."   
_"Sir, when you have a moment, I need to speak with you."_   
"What about?" Optimus asked calmly. But something in his brother's stance made Ultra Magnus wonder if he hadn't been suckered by his own brother.   
_"The . . . situation we were discussing earlier."_   
"Understood. Status?"   
_"Not as I had hoped."_   
"I'm sorry to hear that. I'll be with you as soon as I have a moment."   
_"Thank you, sir. Hot Shot out."_   
"You bastard," he hissed, irrational anger flaring within him.   
"You made assumptions you shouldn't have, Magnus. You may not like the way I run things, but I will thank you to remember that I am not as oblivious as you like to believe. You chose to bind yourself to Prowl . . . and to me. Whether you like my methods or not, you _will_ live with them.   
"Now then, unless you have some important discovery to share or something of note to report . . . get out of my office."   
For a fraction of a second, Ultra Magnus was actually tempted to thump his brother over the head. He pushed the thought aside and stormed out of the office. He wasn't sure which was more frustrating, that Optimus was right or that he had been suckered by own his brother in the first place.   
If he was being honest with himself, his frustration was more with himself than with his brother. And perhaps he had allowed himself to be fooled because of his own distraction. The more he absorbed of Prowl's life with Flarestrike, the more he worried about his increasingly distant bondmate. And worried for what Prowl thought of him.   
"T-AI, where's Prowl?" he asked when he returned to his quarters only to find them empty.   
_"Autobot Prowl is on patrol. This system is currently occupied with medical concerns. Please limit your inquires to necessary items only."_   
Ultra Magnus shook his head ruefully. He wanted to press for more details so he could drive out and meet up with Prowl, but he didn't want to distract T-AI. At the moment, Crosswise needed her attention far more than he did himself. His brother could call him selfish if he wished, but it would not make it truth.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Crosswise watched as Mirage strode into Medical, only a few steps ahead of REV and Hot Shot, and immediately joined Ironhide. His companion folded his arms around the sniper, murmuring soothingly. He knew from the way they gathered at his bedside that they didn't think he was aware of them. The red warning text scrolling through one corner of his visual field made it clear that he shouldn't be awake, but he couldn't let himself go.   
"What happened?" REV asked softly, worried optics focused on Ironhide. "All Mirage could tell us was, well, not very much. . . ."   
"We'll have to ask Cross to be sure, but . . . from what I could tell, they'd been fighting. WARS was yelling for Cross to stop, that's why I followed them. But you know how those two are . . . left me in the dust pretty quick. By the time I caught up with them, they'd collapsed. Whatever happened, they were both dangerously low on energy. That's why I had Magnus bring them here."   
"T-AI?"   
"Their energy levels are pretty low, Hot Shot. Crosswise much more than WARS. But they should be fine again soon enough."   
"Ten to one, Cross asked WARS to bond," Ironhide murmured softly.   
"No bet," Mirage sighed in response, resting his head against his lover's shoulder.   
". . . my fault. . . ."   
Crosswise's faint whisper drew the attention of the Spychangers gathered around his medbed like a magnet, as he had known it would. Ironhide unwrapped one arm to rest a soothing hand on the blue scientist's forehead.   
"Shh . . . rest, 'Wise."   
"No one deserves this . . . not for a question."   
He reached out to clasp onto REV's arm with all the strength he could muster. He had to know the truth, had to know that WARS was wrong about their commanders. He couldn't bear the thought of it if he was right. . . .   
"Tell me . . . tell me it's . . . it's not . . . a lie. . . ."   
"What's not a lie, hon?" REV asked quietly.   
"You . . . an' 'Shot. . . . So happy. . . ."   
"Ironhide's right," Hot Shot soothed as he stepped up to the head of the bed. "You need sleep first, 'Wise."   
"Please . . . tell me," he pleaded, clinging to REV with every ounce of his strength, the yellow warrior stroking his arm soothingly. The two Spychangers exchanged a look, then Hot Shot wrapped an arm around REV's waist, the warmth of genuine love lighting both their optics.   
"We're not always happy," Hot Shot confessed, "but we love each other, 'Wise."   
"More than anything," REV confirmed. "Now get some rest.   
Crosswise sighed from the depths of his spark, wrapped in a warm sense of relief. REV leaned over him and brushed a paternal kiss on his forehead, no doubt hoping that would convince him to release the yellow lambobot. He considered it for a moment, but rather liked the attention he was getting. So instead he mentally locked his grip on REV and then released consciousness.   
  


* * * * * 

  
"Hope you weren't planning on going anywhere anytime soon," Ironhide teased softly. REV shook his head with an indulgent smile; if it eased Cross's mind to be holding his hand, well, it was the least he could offer. Though he had to admit he was a little worried about the situation. And the brooding silence from his bondmate.   
"I'm surprised Optimus hasn't dropped in yet," Mirage murmured from Ironhide's embrace.   
"Optimus might be conferencing with Magnus first," Hot Shot murmured, his expression distant, as if he were focused on something only he could see.   
"And letting us have some privacy," REV added quietly, frowning down at Crosswise sadly. The scientist looked so worn, now that he was taking the time to see the signs. _Was_ it the long hours of research as Crosswise had insisted so many times before? Given their current circumstances, he couldn't make himself believe that, not anymore.   
"Well . . . WARS just better stay away from Magnus for awhile. That was one angry mech, let me tell you. . . ."   
"Magnus will be the least of his worries if I have anything to say about it," Hot Shot rumbled grimly. He could see the concern in Mirage's stance . . . and the confusion scrawled quite clearly on Ironhide's face. _Of course he doesn't know_, REV thought with a silent sigh; Ironhide had been on patrol all afternoon.   
"Ah, well . . . um, T-AI?"   
_"Bit busy at the moment. Could one of you please take WARS home? Thanks!"_ the hologirl's voice chirped, although the hologram itself failed to reappear. It was a bit unusual, but then again, the system could only handle so much multi-tasking at once.   
"Ah, um, 'Raj and I'll take WARS home, 'Shot."   
"If it's all the same to you," the commander replied with a sigh, "I'd like to speak to WARS in private so . . . I'll take him . . . home."   
"No trouble here," Ironhide replied, still looking more than a little confused. "Sure you won't need some help?"   
"Thank you, Ironhide, but I can manage."   
REV leaned back against his bondmate briefly, silently communicating his support. Hot Shot responded with a brief squeeze, an unspoken promise to snuggle together later drifting between them.   
"At least let me wake him up," Mirage offered, but something in his tone set off warnings.   
". . . how do you intend to do that?"   
"I think WARS would be better off not knowing the answer to that," Ironhide commented, visibly restraining his lover. REV caught himself sighing at the sharpshooter's zeal. Not that he could fault the other Spychanger for his anger, but. . . .   
"He could use a good kick to the head," Mirage rumbled darkly.   
"I have something else in mind," Hot Shot replied, his tone equally dark. Crosswise whimpered in his sleep, almost as if he was aware of the conversation. REV stroked his upper arm soothingly, sitting down on a stool Hot Shot brought for him. He watched with a worried frown as his mate lifted WARS with ease, nodded to them all, and then walked out of the ward. He knew Hot Shot was only doing what needed to be done, but it didn't ease his spark any. They had been a team for so long. . . .   
"Primus be merciful . . . I don't think I can bear it if Crosswise still won't see the truth," Mirage murmured, his entire posture shifting radically as he collapsed back against his partner. REV winced in sympathy at the thought; they had reached the end of what they could do. Optimus could order Crosswise to stay, but if Cross resigned his commission to follow WARS. . . . He was afraid to even consider what that would mean for the scientist. And more than a little afraid of what he might do to prevent it. Crosswise had been an important part of his and Hot Shot's life for so many vorn . . . to see him being slowly broken down twisted at his spark.   
_How could we have missed this for so long? Primus, how much has he suffered for no reason?_   
  


* * * * * 

  
WARS waited for them to be clear of Medical by several paces before quietly demanding that Hot Shot put him down. The Spychanger commander did so without even missing a beat, and continued walking down the hall. WARS frowned and when the other Autobot noticed that he was not being followed, he paused and turned back around.   
"I trust you want to be home now. . . ."   
"That's what you want, isn't it. . . . Trying to keep me away from Cross now?"   
"I refuse to have this conversation with you here in the hall, WARS. Now move."   
WARS might have argued, but not when it was clear that Hot Shot was in one of his dangerous moods. And Hot Shot was _definitely_ in one of his more dangerous moods. That he had been less than observant about the situation within his own team rankled, but that Crosswise had been made to suffer so needlessly from his neglect only infuriated him more. Next to REV and Daytonus, Crosswise was the one 'bot in the universe he cared about more than anything. He cared for all of his fellow Spychangers, but Crosswise was someone special.   
Hot Shot walked WARS home in thorny silence, watching the other mech pace the apartment like a caged beast in his silence. He had to admit, he was a little surprised at WARS's conduct; it wasn't like the other Autobot to avoid a confrontation like this. Of them all, WARS was the most likely to tackle any sort of confrontation head-on and full force.   
"What happened?" he asked after a moment longer. "Tell the truth."   
"He ran out on me, that's what happened," WARS grumbled, still pacing.   
"Why would he do that? What was going on between you two?"   
"What does it matter why?"   
"I was under the impression that you wanted him to leave. . . ."   
"Yeah, that's why I went after him, right?"   
"Oh is that what that was," he replied dryly, folding his arms across his chest.   
"And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?" WARS demanded, his mouth twisting into a dark scowl.   
"Crosswise is on an energon drip. Care to explain that one away?"   
"Look, if you're not even going to bother listening to my side. . . ."   
"You have to _give_ me your side before I can listen to it, WARS!" he growled back. "What the pit happened to land both of you in Medical? And why is he nearly drained of energy?"   
"Because he was pushing for a bond!" WARS exploded in a rage. Hot Shot remained silent, assessing the other Spychanger as WARS slammed his fist into the closest bulkhead.   
"Just like he always does," the red warrior murmured a moment later. "He has this notion that we should be . . . I don't know. Something else. Something other than what we are. I told him I wasn't ready. . . .   
"He was angry," WARS sighed as he continued a moment later. "He's always angry, but this time . . . he shouldn't've run away. Maybe I should have stayed back, I don't know. Maybe running after him was the wrong thing to do. But if I hadn't, would we even be having this conversation right now?"   
"This . . . this alienation has been going on for a very long time, WARS. Why didn't you say something sooner? Were we that unwilling to listen?"   
"And said what? That Cross wants something but even he doesn't know what it is?"   
"Or even that you're uneasy with it. . . ?"   
"I don't have a problem, Hot Shot."   
"Not with Cross . . . not at all," Hot Shot probed, watching the red Spychanger intently.   
"_I_ don't have a problem. I know where I am in our relationship, I know where it's headed. That's more than the rest of you."   
Hot Shot nodded slightly; it certainly sounded plausible enough. But something about WARS's body language wasn't tracking. It hadn't for several conversations now, in fact. And no amount of wishful thinking was going to change the fact that Crosswise was in Medical, hurting from a pain more profound than what any physical wound could ever inflict.   
"Do you love Cross?" he asked after a moment of silence.   
"He's my partner," the other mech replied guardedly.   
"Right . . . so do you love him?"   
". . . we don't have what you do. . . ."   
"And you don't have to . . . but have you made a lasting commitment to him, WARS?"   
"Of course I have . . . not that he seems to think so. . . ."   
"Why do you think that is?" he asked quietly, watching WARS intently. The other mech's posture still wasn't right.   
"You know, I'm just a little sick and tired of you lot perpetually sticking your fingers into my personal life. I don't have to explain myself to you!"   
"You're right, you don't. I can't make you say a thing. But if you don't . . . then you live with the consequences. And I can no longer tolerate the strain you've placed on this team. You've never trusted us and for awhile that was . . . tolerable. But no longer. WARS, you are hereby suspended from the Spychangers."   
"This is bullshit. . . ."   
"This is the way it has to be," Hot Shot countered sternly. "We've tried everything. I've given you more chances than anyone in the hope that you and Cross could sort out your differences. It's clear to me that such is no longer possible.   
"I'm going back to Medical. If you want to see Crosswise, I suggest you come as well."   
Hot Shot didn't bother to wait for a response before leaving the apartment. He steeled himself against the heartache he knew was lurking around the corner of his thoughts, pushing it away for later. WARS and Crosswise had been a part of the team for more years than he cared to number. WARS's loss would be less than Crosswise's if the scientist couldn't be convinced to stay, but it was still the end of an era.   
_Time to begin anew. I suppose now I know who to have sent from Cybertron. . . ._   
  


* * * * * 

  
Crosswise was slowly starting to rouse himself when Hot Shot walked back into the ward. REV was quietly relieved at the prospect of being able to reclaim his hand soon. Not that he objected to Crosswise, of course. And he could certainly understand the scientist's desperation for a gentle touch. He only wished they had found some way to avoid this. . . .   
"WARS wants to see Crosswise," Hot Shot sighed, locking the doors to medbay so he could lean back against them. It struck REV as being a profoundly . . . un-Hot Shot thing to do, and he couldn't help but wonder what had happened between his mate and the taciturn warrior.   
"Good for him," Mirage muttered darkly from where he was sitting beside Ironhide, an ivory and azure knot of anger and bitterness.   
"I suggest we leave them be," Hot Shot continued quietly.   
". . . please REV . . . stay?"   
He wasn't quite sure what to think about the desperate pleading he saw in the scientist's optics. He patted the other mech's hand gently, then turned to look up at his mate, mildly surprised to see he had crossed the room to stand beside him in his distraction.   
"He doesn't want to hurt you, Cross."   
"Would WARS mind if I stay? No one else?"   
"Ask me," Ironhide offered, "he don't got a whole lotta choice."   
REV smiled faintly, glancing over at Ironhide as the other mech herded is sulky lover out of the ward. Hot Shot brushed gentle fingertips across the back of his neck for an instant, sending a cold shiver through the yellow Autobot. They had, over the many vorn of their relationship, developed a sort of code of their own, a silent language of gestures, looks, and touches. Hot Shot had just told him with a single gesture that he had done something he hadn't wanted to do at all. Which could only mean one thing.   
REV watched with a heavy spark as WARS walked into the room, a frown touching the other mech's face. Hot Shot touched REV's shoulder briefly, nodding towards the door. REV nodded once, sighing silently. He truly hoped he wouldn't need any help.   
"Hey Cross . . . why don't you let go of REV, hmm?"   
"No. . . ."   
"It's okay, hon," REV murmured softly, patting the scientist's hand. "I'm still right here."   
"What do you want?" Crosswise muttered after a moment.   
"To see how you're doing," WARS murmured softly.   
"As if you care. . . ."   
"Cross, of course I care."   
"Liar. You're a liar. You don't love me . . . not like REV and Hot Shot love each other. . . ."   
"Cross. . . ."   
REV felt an icy chill skitter across his outer plating as tiny pieces of the puzzle began to click together, little hints and comments from Crosswise that had always seemed strange but disjointed. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be wrong or right about his fears . . . but he suspected he would know the truth soon enough.   
"You said it was a delusion . . . a lie . . . but it's not. It's not, WARS. And I . . . I'm not wrong to want it too."   
"Cross. . . ."   
"You always pull away first . . . any time we get too close, you pull back. It's not fair. You think I'll always be there . . . but why should I?"   
"Cross . . . I thought you understood about me . . . about us. . . ."   
"I understand all right . . . I'm a convenience," Crosswise whimpered, his voice cracking slightly. REV gently squeezed the blue scientist's hand, wishing there was something more he could do.   
"Cross, let go of REV," WARS muttered, his tone brittle and harsh. "This doesn't involve him. . . ."   
"No. No, I finally get it. . . . You take, and you take . . . my time, my love, my affection. . . . All these years, and what do I have to show for it?"   
"Cross. . . ."   
"We're Spychangers . . . we're a family. Only you . . . you don't give," Crosswise whispered, meeting WARS's gaze for the first time. "All I wanted was a piece of you to call my own, but you couldn't even give me that."   
"I told you --"   
"You've never been ready . . . you never will be. You like the way things are. But I . . . I don't. I deserve more . . . I'm worth it, too. . . ."   
"So that's it? You're going to throw away everything we have, and for what? The whisper of a fantasy that may never come?"   
"At least I'll be free to try finding it. . . ."   
"You better be sure this is what you want. You cross this line, and there'll be no going back. Ever."   
Crosswise didn't say anything as he powered down his optics. REV felt a sudden stab of pain on his friend's behalf. After fighting so hard for the right to stay with the one who had so abused his love. . . .   
"Well . . . I guess you've made your choice," WARS rumbled after a moment's silence, then turned to look up at REV. "Well, I hope you're happy. Looks like you get to keep Cross without having to compromise after all. . . ."   
REV felt his anger flash like gunpowder left to sit near a flame. That WARS would dare to be so arrogant. . . .   
"Stay or go, it's your choice," he replied stiffly. "Nobody else makes it for you."   
WARS merely snorted as he walked out of the ward. As soon as the door hissed shut, Crosswise released REV's hand to curl on his side, obviously miserable. REV could feel a pained lump catch in his own throat for a moment, then he shifted to sit on the bed itself and drew the other Spychanger into his arms, holding him tightly.   
"Oh Cross. . . ."   
"Why?" the other mech sobbed. "Why can't he love me?"   
"I don't know, hon," he whispered softly, rocking the quaking scientist. "I just don't know."   
"I would have given him everything. . . ."   
"I know, Cross, I know," he whispered gently, aware of his own mate's silent presense the instant the other mech entered the ward. Hot Shot lingered at the door, as if waiting for some signal from them. With a simple handsign, he let his mate know that it was safe to approach.   
"What . . . what do I do now?" Crosswise whimpered.   
"Just know that you're not alone . . . and rebuild from there," he replied quietly, paternally kissing the top of Crosswise's head. The other Spychanger released a painfully weary sigh, limply resting his head on REV's shoulder. Hot Shot settled on the abandoned lab stool, suddenly looking vorn older as he reached out to rub Crosswise's back slowly.   
"I don't . . . I don't even know . . . where to go," Crosswise confessed as fresh sobs wracked his slender form.   
"You don't have to go anywhere," REV murmured.   
"I can't . . . I can't stay there. . . ."   
"Then stay with us, hon. Stay with 'Shot and me. . . ."   
"I . . . I dun wanna be a burden. . . ."   
"You've never been a burden," Hot Shot murmured.   
". . . and you're not gonna be one now," REV concluded with a small smile.   
"Is he . . . is he leaving Earth then?"   
"Even as an ex-Spychanger, he'd still have the option of remaining with the Terran Autobot contingent," Hot Shot explained gently. "Knowing him, though, he'll probably ask for a transfer."   
"Probably just as well, right?" the scientist sighed with a tired smile.   
"Probably," Hot Shot agreed.   
"I'm sorry . . . for all this mess. . . . And for what I said before . . . about caring about the team. I _do_ care. . . ."   
"You were stressed, hon," REV soothed. "And we weren't helping."   
"It was hard to be sensitive . . . but we could have tried harder. We're sorry, Crosswise."   
"No, no . . . you were trying to help, but I wasn't listening. And WARS. . . . He would hold me and it was like nothing else mattered. And when he touched me . . . it was like everything was going to be okay. I wanted it to last forever . . . but it never did. . . ."   
"Then maybe something'll come along that _will_ last," REV murmured.   
". . . and be everything you ever wanted," Hot Shot added.   
"Someone to finish my sentences?"   
"Sure, why not?" REV chuckled.   
"They're useful for lazy days. . . ."   
"You don't know how long I've envied you both. . . . He knew . . . and hated it. . . ."   
"Not every couple is like us, Cross," REV cautioned.   
"I know," he sighed in response. "And it wouldn't have to be the same, but. . . ."   
"But you want to be treasured?" Hot Shot ventured. "That's not too much to ask, Cross."   
"But you look exhausted, hon," REV murmured. "Why don't we see if T-AI will release you and then we'll take you home, okay?"   
Crosswise nodded weakly, barely awake as it was. REV smiled faintly, shifting his hold on the younger 'bot so Hot Shot could carry him.   
"T-AI?"   
"He's free to go as long as you two promise to keep him from straining himself," the hologram replied quietly.   
"I don't think that's going to be a problem," Hot Shot sighed and he settled the sleeping blue mech in his arms.   
"No," she agreed quietly, "I don't suppose it will." 


	4. Chapter 3: Fortress of Light

**Riders of the Storm**   
Chapter 3: Fortress of Light

  
Optimus Prime had known there was going to be difficulties, but he hadn't anticipated being sent on a wild goose chase by his own base's computer.   
"T-AI, enough of this. Where is Hot Shot?"   
_"Sorry, Optimus, it's just . . . well, he's home now. Crosswise is sleeping, so I guess Hot Shot could be ready for you now."_   
"You could have explained sooner," he mumbled, turning back towards Hot Shot and REV's personal quarters. The base computer remained silent and he continued his trek in quiet reflection.   
It was REV's voice that called out to him when he reached the apartment, not that he was particularly surprised. The two Spychangers had been nearly inseperable for the past week. REV nodded as Optimus walked into the room, but the Autobot commander was taken aback by how . . . drained the yellow warrior looked.   
"REV, are you okay?"   
"I'll be fine, Optimus," the other responded, vaguely waving off his concern. "You're here to talk to 'Shot, I take it."   
"Yes . . . what happened?"   
"I've suspended WARS from the Spychangers," Hot Shot replied as he walked into the antechamber. "If he doesn't ask for a transfer, then draft one for him. He's already done enough damage; I won't tolerate him doing more."   
"How could this have happened?"   
"WARS has never been one to share with the team and Cross. . . ."   
". . . he kept hanging on, covering up how bad things really were. . . ."   
"This has gone on far too long," Hot Shot sighed, obviously irritated with himself. "That it took Cross being hurt this badly for me to see that. . . ."   
"We tried to help him, 'Shot, but he didn't want our help. . . ."   
"Doesn't change how I feel," the commander replied sullenly. REV sighed before drawing his bondmate close, resting his chin on the other mech's shoulder. Optimus felt vaguely uncomfortable, but he didn't know why.   
"I know I've been delaying sending you my recommendations for awhile now. I guess you could say I've been a bit preoccupied. . . ."   
"That's understandable," Optimus replied quietly.   
"I know who I want now, sir. They've been working together for awhile now for the most part; I'll have a list of names for you as soon as REV lets me write it down."   
Optimus nodded thoughtfully; he had his suspicions who Hot Shot would be requesting and if Daytonus wasn't on that list, he would be very surprised.   
"I've already made some inquires," the Autobot commander replied a moment later. "There's a supply ship coming in one week; WARS can return to Cybertron with that. But it will probably be a month or more before a transport can be outfitted to send any reinforcements. We might be able to get two or three transfers squeezed onto the supply ship, but only if I call them soon."   
Hot Shot pulled himself free of REV's arms, hurriedly inputting something into a datapad before handing it to him.   
"These are my recommendations, sir. Of them, I'd suggest Lightstrike, Highguard, and Wraith for early transfer," the commander replied crisply. Optimus perused the list, a little surprised at Hot Shot's suggestions.   
"Not Daytonus?"   
"We agree that it would be . . . wiser . . . if Daytonus has limited opportunity to interact with WARS. They rarely saw each other on Cybertron and we have no intention of telling him about what's happened until he can actually be here. . . ."   
"Are you sure? If he were to find out some other way, perhaps running into WARS on Cybertron. . . ."   
"The chances of him finding out from someone other than either of us are minimal. Daytonus and WARS hardly travel in the same social circles. . . ."   
"Day's always been very fond of Crosswise," REV supplied with a brief frown at his bondmate. "_I_ nearly wanted to rip off WARS's head for this. I don't really want to know what Daytonus would do, given the opportunity."   
"Very well. I'll see what I can do."   
Optimus let himself out of the apartment, swiftly returning to his office. If he was going to get anyone on that supply ship, he was going to have to call Cybertron now.   
"T-AI, get me a line to Alpha Trion's office, priority one."   
For once the computer offered no verbal confirmation of the command. Optimus frowned to himself at T-AI's increasingly unusual behavior, wondering at the source. But he had little time to consider it as his desk comm screen flickered to life.   
_"Optimus . . . I was beginning to wonder when we would hear from you again. After that automated supply request, I had to wonder if perhaps I hadn't been wrong in thinking you had bested your brother."_   
"It is good to hear your voice again, Alpha Trion, though I would like to know how you could let him come here."   
_"You know Magnus wasn't going to listen to anyone."_   
"But not even an attempt to stop him?"   
_"Ah, yes, well . . . how did you know that?"_   
"A great deal has changed since we first landed here, old friend. The old records were right - Earth is a catalyst. Which is why I called. The conflict for Earth isn't settled and it's unlikely to be settled in the near future. My team here has committed to seeing this through, but we need reinforcements. I already have thirteen Autobots selected; I am transmitting that list now. However, if it is at all possible, I would appreciate it if one or more could be sent with the supply shuttle."   
_"I can arrange for three of your transfers to be dispatched with the supplies, just tell me who."_   
"Lightstrike, Highguard, and Wraith. Also, I am ordering WARS home with the shuttle."   
_"I had intended the shuttle to be a one-way trip, but . . . it will be tight quarters for the outbound trip, but if you are serious about this transfer. . . ."_   
"I am."   
_"Then it will be made possible. It sounds like you've had an interesting two years. I look forward to reading your reports, Optimus."_   
"Interesting is hardly the word I would choose, old friend, but you should have access to all my reports now. How are you holding up back home?"   
_"Unchanged from when you left, to be honest. Everyone knows why you left, but for the moment, the treaty seems to be holding. Megatron's expedition is the only aggressive act the Predacons have made since you left."_   
"That hardly seems possible. . . ."   
_"And yet it is. If they are planning anything, they are keeping it quite secret."_   
"All right, Alpha Trion. And thank you for appreciating the urgency of the situation."   
_"You are still the Prime, Optimus. What the Prime wants, the Prime gets. Look for the shuttle in six standard days. Iacon out."_   
Optimus shook his head ruefully at the blank screen. It was easy to forget, so many lightyears away from home, that he was in fact the supreme commander of all Autobot forces. He wondered if his brother truly appreciated the burdens that came with being the bearer of the Matrix. Perhaps if he did he would not be so eager to claim it for himself.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Wedge decided he would like being an Autobot a whole lot more if he was actually allowed to do more than repair work and the occasional building project. Not that contract work with the humans was a bad thing . . . but it tended to leave him with a lot of time to think about how much more fun he'd be having if he was allowed a patrol route like other Autobots.   
"Hey! Watch it!"   
"Huh? Oh, sorry Heavy Load. Guess I let my mind drift again."   
"You know, the whole two heads are better than one thing only works if both are paying attention," Heavy Load teased gently.   
"Yeah, yeah, I know."   
"I apologize as well, Heavy Load-san."   
"Well, no harm done. Just be more careful next time."   
"Sure thing, Heavy Load," Wedge replied cheerfully. They were helping with a reconstruction project on the outskirts of Osaka, primarily because the Autobots were responsible for the damage in the first place - another skirmish with the Predacons. Everyone had been grateful at the time that it was only the Predacons and not Scourge and the other Decepticons as well; whenever the Decepticons showed up, the damage was ten times worse, at the very least. The Japanese hadn't been so impressed, however. Very polite, of course, but also very upset. Which was why Build Team was aiding the reconstruction.   
Well . . . sort of aiding. Mostly they were doing the heavy labor, each according to their own vehicle modes. Wedge didn't see how they were really doing much to help. If they were actually allowed to _build_ the new apartment complex, _that_ would be helping! After all, what good was the hyperbuild ability if they weren't even allowed to use it?   
"You know, Tokida-san, we could do a lot more than just this donkey work. . . ."   
"This is delicate work, Wedge-san."   
"Just let us try. One building. If you don't think we did a good enough job, I'll never mention it again, swear to Primus. But Tokida-san, we're a construction team. We can do this stuff, honest!"   
"Well . . . I suppose it wouldn't hurt to talk to the others. . . ."   
_"Wedge! This is a battle protocol! Have Build Team report to Sector TangoAlpha, subsector 21, ASAP!"_   
"We're on it, T-AI! Sorry, Tokida-san, but we have to go."   
"Good luck, Wedge-san!" the human replied as he jumped down from the bulldozer's cab. Wedge smiled, even though he knew the human couldn't see it; Build Team didn't need luck.   
"You know, there's something weird about this battle protocol," Grimlock mused as they entered the global spacebridge network.   
"Like the fact that T-AI didn't even tell us who we were fighting?" Hightower offered in response.   
"That, too. No, I mean the location. Sector TangoAlpha is Tasmania . . . and I don't think that island's big enough to have ten subsectors, let alone twenty-one."   
"Then where is the spacebridge taking us?" Wedge asked in confusion.   
"I think we'd better stop and find out," Heavy Load recommended, slamming on his brakes. Wedge did the same, then transformed to walk back the tunnel a few paces to access an auxiliary terminal. A quick search yielded that the spacebridge computer had no knowledge of a sector TangoAlpha, subsector 21. It did, however, admit to a sector AlphaTango, subsector 21, which was where it was intending to take them.   
"It's not like T-AI to make a mistake like this. Tasmania isn't anywhere _near_ Texas."   
"Why am I suddenly wondering if there's even anything going on in Texas?" Hightower mused quietly.   
"Only one way to find out," Grimlock replied.   
"Either way, we better hurry up and find out," Wedge added as he shifted back to vehicle mode. His teammates all agreed, hurrying after him as they completed their run through the spacebridge. Somehow, none of them were very surprised to arrive and not see any Decepticons or Predacons in the area. They were surprised, however, by who _was_ there when they arrived.   
"Skid-z?"   
"Wedge? Hey guys, what brings you all the way out here?"   
"T-AI's acting really weird," Wedge grumbled, though he knew it wasn't much of an explanation.   
"We should call in to base, find out what's going on," Heavy Load suggested.   
"Well, hey, I did ask her to send someone around since, uh, well, I don't have any way to access the spacebridge myself," Skid-z explained sheepishly.   
"Well, okay, so that might explain the spacebridge setting . . . but she said there was a battle protocol."   
"In a nonexistent subsector," Grimlock added. "I hope this isn't from someone trying to reprogram her or something."   
"Maybe all that research she's been doing has finally made her snap," Hightower said quietly. "All that frustration would have to get to her eventually. . . ."   
"Well, we should probably get back to base then and see if we can't figure out what's going on."   
"Good idea, Wedge. Come on, Skid-z. We might even be able to give you a spacebridge transponder."   
"Excellent! Lead the way, guys!"   
Heavy Load lead the team into the global spacebridge this time, with Wedge picking up the rear. He didn't know why, but he had a bad feeling about the situation with T-AI. The Decepticons had been lying low for over a month now and that just felt wrong. What were they plotting? And why did he have the sneaking suspicion that they were going to find out very soon?   
  


* * * * * 

  
"Grim? Cross? Any progess?"   
"Well . . . sort of," Crosswise sighed, his voice slightly muffled. Hightower smiled a little as he watched the blue Spychanger scoot out from under the console.   
"We know what it isn't, at least," Grimlock supplied with the slightest hint of a confused frown. "T-AI's mainframe checks out completely clean, no crossed wires or corrupted sectors or anything else weird in the hardware. We ran a scan on her software and _that_ all checked out too."   
"The only thing left is some sort of outside interference, but this base is supposed to be shielded against that," Crosswise sighed and for a moment he looked completely exhausted. But Grimlock was speaking again before Hightower could ask the other Autobot if he was okay.   
"So either we've missed something or _somehow_, someone's interfering anyway."   
"Right now, I'm voting for the latter . . . but whatever it is, we aren't finding it with her offline."   
"Then I guess we had better boot her up again," Hightower suggested with a faint sigh. They had shut down the base AI to keep her from getting them into any more trouble while she was acting strangely. He didn't like having to restore the system when they still hadn't fixed the problem.   
"Yeah . . . and pray," Grimlock chuckled, trying to reassure the smaller red 'bot. Crosswise started the boot up process, then stepped back as the screens flickered to life and additional power hummed through the system. A moment later, the hologirl materialized. She looked around, then floated up to be closer to Hightower's height.   
"Have you fixed the problem yet?"   
"Not yet, T-AI," he replied with a shake of his head. "Grim and Cross need to run some tests while you're online.   
"Oh. Okay."   
Crosswise was already at one of the consoles, running diagnostics. Grimlock was about to plug in to another console when T-AI floated up to his level.   
"Grimlock, why is Crosswise here?" she asked quietly.   
"I was wondering the same thing, Grim," Hightower murmured softly. "He's trying to hide it, but he looked like he was about to fall over earlier.   
"I know, but it's important we find out what's going on with T-AI and, frankly, when it comes to experts, we're it."   
"Since when is Cross a computer tech?"   
"He isn't . . . but no one else knows anything about AI networking. Besides, he's the only Spychanger on base and there's no way _I_ could fit under those consoles. And neither could you, Tao."   
"All right, all right," Hightower chuckled softly, a faint smile turning the corner of his mouth.   
"Uh . . . you guys aren't going to believe this. T-AI, go ahead and shut down again."   
"What did you find, Cross?"   
"The reason she's been acting weird. It's outside interference all right . . . and the reason it got through the shielding? It's using an Autobot frequency."   
"What?"   
"You've got to be kidding. . . ."   
"Who would even . . . waitacycle . . . CEREBROS?"   
"I doubt it's intentional," Crosswise sighed as he leaned back against the console heavily. "Remember, Cerebros has been out of touch for four million years. T-AI didn't even exist then."   
"But . . . what's he _doing_?" Grimlock frowned. "And why would it be causing interference?"   
"I don't know, but if I had to guess, I'd say he was looking for his base. It's affecting T-AI because he's actually sending commands. We should be able to nullify the effect by blocking out the old frequencies."   
"Grim and I can handle that, Cross. Why don't you go home, get some rest? You look like you could use it."   
"I'm fine," the Spychanger lied, trying to wave them off.   
"Go on, Cross," Grimlock urged, physically picking up the other mech when he started to protest again. "You're obviously not sleeping well and a frequency block is easy. No crawling under consoles needed. So go already."   
"I sai--"   
"Go!" Grimlock and Hightower chorused, the taller green 'bot giving him a gentle push. Crosswise sighed then, conceding defeat, and walked out of the command center.   
"Have you ever known a more stubborn 'bot?" Hightower sighed.   
"Oh sure - WARS springs immediately to mind. Besides . . . if you were him, wouldn't you have a hard time sleeping?"   
"Nightmares? Hmm . . . guess I hadn't thought of that. Makes sense, though."   
"I'm sure it doesn't help that WARS is still here. Now let me set up the block and then we can tell Optimus about Cerebros."   
  


* * * * * 

  
The Sahara Desert. An unforgiving expanse of shimmering golden sand only intermittently interrupted by an oasis. Few creatures lived in the spans between oases, making it an ideal place for hiding things. The humans had known this for centuries, unaware that one other had known for even longer.   
Silent commands arced out across the dunes, seeking the target hidden beneath their shifting surface. Deep beneath the sand, a buried treasure heard the silent command to awaken and responded. As power flooded the systems of the once-slumbering base, alarm klaxons cried out at both bases. But Scourge was not bothered by their discordant blaring; neither he nor any other Decepticon was at Galvatron's base. Instead, they stood with Cerebros under the midday sun, watching the shifting sands as the base of Fortress Maximus slowly rose to the surface once more.   
_Soon the ultimate power to rule this world will be mine to command. Then I shall crush Galvatron and his snivelling lackey, Sky-byte. And the Autobots, with a special, lingering death for that mercenary, Ultra Magnus._   
He chuckled quietly to himself as he envisioned the things he would do. With Fortress Maximus his to command, nothing would be able to stop him. It was a delicious irony that the Autobots were ultimately responsible for giving him the power that he sought.   
  


* * * * * 

  
_Sing to me, oh power of my spirit. Rise again, oh keeper of my lifeforce. Open again my mind and give me the power to overcome the darkness that yet surrounds me. The time has come for Cerebros to speak once more._   
  


* * * * * 

  
"Optimus! There's a massive power spike in the eastern Sahara! And seismic tremors! Optimus, I think Cerebros has found Fortress Maximus!"   
"T-AI, I'm bypassing the member select protocol. Alert and dispatch the Spychangers and the Autobot Brothers. I'll meet them enroute."   
"Aye-aye, sir!" the hologirl replied with a crisp salute. Optimus glanced at the monitors once more, then transformed and entered the spacebridge. He didn't like this situation at all and something in his processors was giving him the surges. They still didn't have a solid lead on the key to freeing Cerebros's mind and without that . . . Optimus wasn't sure what would happen next. He only hoped Galvatron didn't know the second key either. If he did, then this was going to be one very short trip. If Galvatron could control Fortres Maximus . . . the results were unthinkable.   
  


* * * * * 

  
Ultra Magnus hadn't been summoned to the Sahara, but he went anyway. Knowing what was at stake . . . knowing Prowl would be there. . . . Discovering that Scourge was there as well only made him more certain that he had been right to come. He had been ready to rain down death and destruction on the Decepticons when the spacebridge opened again, this time disgorging not only Prowl and his two brothers, but also the Spychangers and his own brother, Optimus Prime.   
"Scourge! Give us Cerebros!"   
"You're too late, Optimus Prime! Your precious drone is mine to command. Cerebros! Activate Fortress Maximus!"   
Without so much as even a flicker of concern for who was issuing the command, Cerebros transformed, sending his base into a flurry of activity. Ultra Magnus rushed forward, nodding to his brother as he joined the other Autobots. Optimus nodded in acknowledgment, glancing meaningfully at Prowl. The white Autobot glanced over, as if sensing his presence and a relieved smile touched his optics.   
"I AM FORTRESS MAXIMUS. WHO AWAKENS US?"   
"I, Scourge, command you! Serve me! Destroy those who would stand against me!"   
There was a long pause as the giant Autobot's head turned to stare down at Scourge. The Autobots who had created this guardian may have been twisted, but Ultra Magnus refused to believe that the second key could be something as simple as declaring one's self to be in command. If his brother was to be believed, Cerebros was now trapped within Fortress Maximus, silently awaiting the command that would free him. _If_ his brother was to be believed.   
Autobot and Decepticon alike waited, poised in silence for Fort Max's next move. Would he remain motionless, unable to comply with any orders? Or would he do as Scourge commanded?   
As suddenly as he had transformed, Fortress Maximus broke apart, returning to his existence as base and Cerebros. The ancient Autobot stood at the threshold of his own base, studying both groups in silence for a moment. Then a sad smile lit his optics and he shook his head slightly before turning to face Scourge.   
"You brought us to this place, and for that we must honor you. But your quest is not mine. You would destroy this very land over which I have stood guard for so many millenia. Your inmost core knows nothing of my words and cares not for the oaths to which I have pledged. Be gone from this place, for your evil is not welcomed."   
For a moment, no one moved. No one had expected Cerebros to be able to act independently, least of all Scourge.   
"But . . . I command you!"   
"You do not. Be gone and seek not to return."   
"Go on, Scourge, you heard the 'bot! Git outta here!"   
"Yeah, go on, scram!"   
Finding courage and strength in their numbers, the other Autobots rallied, threatening the Decepticons with warning shots and brandished weapons. Given the choice, Ultra Magnus would have preferred to destroy the retreating Decepticons outright, but he knew better than to attempt it in his brother's presence. Unfortunate, since he still wanted to see Scourge's vital fluids drained from the other mech's body, but he would manage. Besides which, Cerebros was watching the entire scene with a certain sadness that left the much larger warrior on edge. The guardian had said that Scourge was not his master, but he had not yet cast his own dice in with those of Optimus Prime.   
"You bear the same sign that we ourselves have worn for ages untold. We see in you a great potential, Optimus Prime."   
"Thank you, Cerebros. We are glad to know you --"   
"You, too, fail to hold fast the key, Matrix Bearer. Autobot though we both may be, this very life-sphere was entrusted into my care. As I once abdicated my place for fear of doing more harm than good, I cannot join with you. Your team is divided, as broken as their spirits. If you cannot bind them, how can I know that you are the one in whom I should place mine own faith?"   
"But. . . ."   
"Should you have need of me, call out to these skies and I shall hear. In your time of most desperate need, my door shall be open unto you. But until you hear the words I have left for all, my own counsel shall I keep. I will not abdicate my most sacred duty a second time."   
Cerebros turned away from Optimus then, but instead of retreating into his base, he approached the clustered Spychangers. The strange Autobot studied each in turn, stopping at last before Crosswise. He raised the blue scientist's chin with one finger, his demeanor strangely intense.   
"From you comes the freshest pain. Know that long have I been the keeper of things unseen. The time of your twilight is ending. A new day shall dawn for you and yours. Take comfort in the knowledge that what you have seen, what you have suffered, has not been in vain."   
Crosswise stood in mute shock as Cerebros walked away from him. Ultra Magnus couldn't blame him; the strange Autobot had a gift for speaking without saying much at all. Perhaps it was his age. Perhaps Cerebros was damaged. Either way, he was not reassured to see the guardian approaching him, nor was he at all appeased when his optics settled on Prowl's form.   
"From you comes the sharpest division, the deepest pain. You have suffered much and have my deepest sympathies. Glad I am for you that you have found safe haven in your storm. Abandon him not, for his is a strength rare in this life. Know that time is the great healer; even your brother's anger shall not last forever. As he holds you dear to his own spirit, so shall he see the goodness that now enfolds you.   
"And from you, the fires of rage burn hot. Know that even your rage must be tempered, lest it consume you. Many are those who depend on your strength. You possess what your brother does not; as you envy him, know that he envies you. But envy is weak. Cast it away from yourself and you shall be freed."   
His messages delivered, Cerebros retreated into the depths of his base, leaving behind a dozen very confused Autobots.   
"Sir, what just happened?"   
"He said nice try, now get yourselves straightened out and then we'll talk," Ultra Magnus rumbled in mild annoyance. _He_ knew full well what his faults were; he didn't need them broadcast for all to hear. Particularly not where Prowl was concerned.   
"He said more than that," Prowl sighed, surprising even Magnus by leaning back against him, one hand snaking out to draw one of Magnus's own arms around him. "A lot more. He opened my optics. . . ."   
He couldn't help but smile as the white interceptor nestled against him, even if they were surrounded by other Autobots. Some of whom were not particularly interested in their coziness. WARS's answer was to simply quit the battlefield, a move that surprised no one but managed to hurt Crosswise again anyway. X-Brawn was another matter, his anger a palpable thing that simmered over the sand.   
"X-Brawn, enough. Were you not listening to Cerebros just now? Your anger does nothing but tear this team apart. Save it for those who deserve it; Ultra Magnus has done nothing to earn your ire."   
"That's slag and you know it, Optimus!"   
"I am _nothing_ like Flarestrike," Ultra Magnus hissed. "And I'll thank you to stop comparing my to that scud-sucking sleeze!"   
"Who the pit _is_ Flarestrike?!" Sideburn demanded suddenly.   
"No one you need to worry about, little brother," Prowl muttered darkly.   
"You know, I'm not some little kid anymore, Prowl. Whoever this guy is, he cost us Cerebros, so excuse me for wanting to know!"   
"No," Prowl corrected quietly, "WARS's arrogance and X-Brawn's anger cost us Cerebros. And maybe my inability to forget, too. Flarestrike . . . he can't do much of anything anymore . . . except haunt my nightmares. . . ."   
Ultra Magnus slid his hands along the tops of Prowl's shoulder mounts, silently willing comfort into his bondmate. The smaller Autobot sighed as he collapsed back against him, eliciting a strange look from Sideburn.   
"You two are so weird. . . ."   
"Sir? If you have no objections, the Spychangers will resume our patrols."   
"We're all going back on patrol. Gentlemen, end this," Optimus ordered, staring hard at each Autobot brother in turn before entering the spacebridge network. With the Spychangers already gone, the four Autobots were left alone . . . aside from the looming presence of Fortress Maximus itself.   
"All right, X-Brawn, what gives? I'll admit, I wasn't sold on Magnus at first either. No offense, big guy, but you didn't exactly do much to make friends. But Primus, Bro, if he and Prowl are happy . . . I mean, that's the important thing, isn't it?"   
"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" Magnus rumbled, uneasy with their silent watcher. He did not doubt that Cerebros was listening to every word they said. Listening and passing judgement.   
"You don't understand, baby brother. . . ."   
"And I never will if someone doesn't explain it to me!"   
"Flarestrike was my bondmate before you were created."   
Sideburn gaped at his middle brother in shock. Sensing how hard it was for Prowl to even say that much, Ultra Magnus conceded to the disquieting fact that they would be in the desert awhile longer and sat down, drawing his bondmate into his lap. Prowl shunted aside his shield and switched off his optics, leaning against Magnus weakly.   
"He . . . I was a naive fool and I believed him when he said he loved me. In the end, he only loved to control me . . . but I couldn't see that. . . . I might be dead now if X-Brawn hadn't killed him."   
"Investigation said it was self-defense and defense of other . . . it was months before Prowl would even speak to me, though. Not that I really blamed him - he'd had to watch me kill his bondmate. . . ."   
"Wha? Why wasn't I told any of this?"   
"You hadn't even been sparked yet when Flarestrike died," X-Brawn explained. "By the time you were around, Prowl had found his coping mechanism and, well, you were too young to be burdened with the truth when it was pretty clear you didn't need to know. Mostly, Prowl and I were trying to put it behind us."   
"I . . . I guess that makes sense. . . ."   
"It was a long time ago . . . and I think I'm finally truly putting it behind me," Prowl sighed, a content smile lighting his optics as power slowly returned to them.   
"Then perhaps X-Brawn and Sideburn can resume your patrol? There's something we need to discuss. . . ."   
"Now wait just a minute. . . ."   
"Oh give it up, Bro! They haven't seen each other in a week now thanks to you. Let them have a little peace."   
Ultra Magnus watched impassively as Sideburn and X-Brawn left the desert. He didn't really want to linger either, but Prowl seemed disinclined to move. In fact, he was snuggling even closer, an low purring sound rising from his engine.   
"You are well suited to each other."   
Prowl nearly bolted out of Magnus's lap at the sound of Cerebros's voice, remaining seated only because of his encircling arms. Ultra Magnus restrained himself from actually scowling at the ancient Autobot, more than a little curious to know what the other mech wanted from them now.   
"Reconsidering your choice to stay isolated from us?"   
"No . . . I will continue to heed mine own counsel on how best to serve this very land."   
"Then. . . ?"   
"There was one thing I was not able to share earlier, a final warning. You have weathered a personal storm, and so your spirits are strong. Know that what you have already survived has been but the beginning. Your cycle has far to travel before it is complete. . . ."   
"And _your_ road, Cerebros? We Autobots are here to protect the Earth, the same as you. . . ."   
"So you have said, many times. Still will I keep mine own counsel in this matter. When I am needed most, then perhaps shall I side with your efforts. Until then . . . watch carefully the skies."   
"I wonder what that's supposed to mean," Prowl murmured as they watched the ancient Autobot retreat once more into his base.   
"I don't know . . . and to be honest, I don't care. Maybe I will later, but right now all I care about is you. Think we can get out of here and spend some real time together?"   
"I think I can handle that, yes," the interceptor replied quietly, his shy smile clear in his voice. Ultra Magnus chuckled quietly as he transformed, pausing only long enough for Prowl to settle on his axles before leveraging him up onto his trailer and opening the spacebridge. He could almost feel the last vestiges of tension oozing out of his bondmate as they entered the network and he made himself set aside Cerebros's words. Time enough for worry later. They had won a brief respite from the conflicts around them . . . and Ultra Magnus intended to put that respite to good use. 


End file.
